I am my lover’s and my lover is mine.
He caresses the sweet-smelling flowers.
Song of Solomon 6:3
Can you believe we’ve been married for eight years? On the one hand, it seems so long — I remember when we first got married, two years seemed like an eternity. On the other hand, it feels so short — in the grand scheme of things, I trust that this will only represent a small fraction of the years we’ll be spending together. Plus, the time has flown by so fast! It seems like only yesterday that we walked down those stairs at Woodinville Alliance, hoping not to trip and fall on our faces. (After which Mr. Anderson spilled punch on my wedding dress, and the stain is still there today. And then on the drive to the Sorrento, the balloons twisted off the Prius’ antenna, which I imagine is somewhere in Lake Washington even now.)