We met at a bar and it was love at first sight for me. She wasn’t even officially divorced yet and was out solo for the first time since her husband moved out.
We had a lovely evening, but she was reluctant to agree to a next date. I had learned that she walked her dogs on a local trail, so I dragged my poor kids to the trail every time that I could. We eventually ran into her.
I acted like it was a coincidence, but my daughter outed me, telling her that I’d been walking the trail constantly. My daughter the matchmaker.
ETA: because the trail was a part of our meeting, I got her to agree to a walk in the evening. I hid a cooler at a bench area on the trail ahead of time. Cheese, strawberries, and a bottle of champagne.
Mrs Magill and I volunteered at the same community theater. We hung out a lot together for several months. It took a mutual friend to point out that we were dating. We were like, “No. We just hang out together… with no one else… nearly every night… Well damn, maybe we are dating.”
When the director of the show I was stage managing saw us kissing goodbye before rehearsal, she exclaimed, “It’s about time!”
A year later, we were engaged. A year after that, we were married.
I’m not blind as a bat but until ten years or so ago my eyesight was basically superhuman both near and far. Now I wear progressive lens glasses. Kind of depressing.
I struggle to pronounce “spleen” correctly; my brain insists on trying to pronounce it “schpleen,” like how Paul Reubens pronounced it (it was his character’s “superhero” name) in Mystery Men.
Did 10 on one day the first four weekends of this month. Only did 8+ today, but the rain came in early so we left the field & went to dinner; otherwise, I would have done it today, too.
I voted probably for walking ten miles, but i walked ten miles yesterday. So i guess i should upgrade to “yes”. It wasn’t non-stop walking. I stopped for lunch, i dangled my feet in a pool for a while, i stopped and took photos. But my step counter, and my husband’s, thought we’d walked about ten miles by supper time.
The only issue i had was that every time i tried to stretch as i was sleeping, some leg muscle cramped painfully. But it seems to have worked itself out by today.
My driveway is oyster shell concrete aggregate, so I voted “Two or more of the above listed materials in roughly equal amounts” even though I’m not sure of the proportions. I looks like it’s mostly shell held together by concrete, but I doubt that’s true by volume.
I don’t exactly have a driveway, but I sort of do. The town road ends at my house, with a turnaround that people often think is my driveway. Past that turnaround is parking area and farm lane, both of which are mostly grass, so I voted grass. The town road was dirt until earlier this year, when the town first paved it with asphalt, and then a month or so later covered the asphalt with a layer of gravel; so the top bit is almost entirely gravel, but the asphalt’s a lot thicker than the gravel layer; so if I tried to answer for the turnaround I don’t know which to answer. Plus which it isn’t, technically, my driveway; though sometimes visitors or I park something there, when I’m not expecting anything large to have to turn around and people are around to move vehicles if the issue does come up.
My house has only had 3 owners and the first one’s dead. The person we bought it from is a lousy human being, so they aren’t getting a tour of their old place.
My house only has one couple who were the prior owners, and both are dead. Mind you, apparently the grandkids moved in for a bit to help out. We have been here over 10 years, and the previous owners still get mail.
I did let a previous owner in once. Probably never again. I didn’t know her but we had mutual friends. I voted it depends on many factors. A complete stranger there is no way.
I know the names of at least most of the people who lived here before us. Except the first owners, who never spent a night in the house, they were all renters. I know that there are many photos available on realty websites that show the house during the era of the most proximate renters. As a general rule, I don’t let anyone into the house unless I contacted them first, they are service people I’m expecting, or, I suppose, police with a warrant.