I have often told people that when I met my husband he was cooking a can. That’s not exactly true. We met the night before but the next time I saw him was the next day and he was definitely cooking a can. On a mini-stove in a campground 300 miles away in Pennsylvania. It was a white water rafting trip on the Youghiogheny River arranged by my cousin’s work, a gov’t contracting tech company I later went to work for and stayed at something like 15 years.

The GG finagled his way into MYYYY raft and that’s us in the front (embiggen). My cousin and her boyfriend (now husband) are in the back. My memory of this trip was that we were in a raft with a GUIDE. Not. I enjoyed this trip but I am NOT a white water rafter and I have not done it since. I was TERRIFIED! We got “training” about how to deal with hydraulics, etc. if we fell out of the raft and I kept thinking, “I am never gonna remember this stuff if I fall out.” Of course, just about the first thing that happened was that my cousin fell outta the raft. Fortunately there were no hydraulics in that area and her boyfriend pulled her back in without incident.

After that trip, I told my cousin I thought the GG liked me. Like LIKED me. She laughed it off and said something about the GG liking “all pretty girls.” We didn’t connect immediately but since he worked with my cousin we ran into each other from time to time and the next winter after a couple of trips to the moldy old cFam cabin at Houghton Lake, we were an item and here we are.

When the first trip to HL was being planned, I was surprised it actually happened. We were 20-somethings then and people, especially males, were not known to be very reliable, at least not in my experience. But a bunch of us took one trip up and then we took another trip and I met various cFam sibs on THAT trip and I was thinking something like, “This is a family I would love to be a part of!” After that, me and the GG started traveling up there together without work people. And. Here. We. Are. Orange Arguments and all 🎃🎃🎃

The thing is, I’m not *exactly* sure who sent me this pic. It came from My Dear Uncle Harry’s email account. Harry is a highly intelligent, sharp-minded person and he uses the internet. I’m sure he can handle email completely competently. It’s just that I’ve never RECEIVED an email message from him before. In any case, I LOVE IT!

Thanks Harry (or whoever) for the wonderful blast from the past!

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