Good Times

* That marvelous afternoon in Solvang when she finally relaxed enough to let me photograph her without tensing up -- and when the pictures came back, she finally recognized something I had always known -- that she was, in fact, truly beautiful.

* The fun I had misleading her about the engagement ring and the joy of the evening when I gave it to her -- a little linen hankie soaked with tears and rolled up in a tiny ball.

* The night the manager at La Gloria explained why he did not interrupt our swimming: "Oh, Senor, your Lady is so young and lovely -- and the woman who complained is old and ugly." (Only a Latin!)

* The night I had the room already arranged in hopes of enjoying her delights -- only to have her pass out during dinner (from her medication) -- so instead of carrying her to bed, I carried her to the car and took her home.

* The day we made love on the hillside in Napa Valley -- to the amazement of the deer who was watching us.

* "I won't do anything you don't want me to do." (Holiday Inn -- the "first time.")

* Ireland: Smoked salmon at Moran's -- potato soup everywhere else. She taught me to play ping-pong. The little old lady we picked up walking on the road.

* The magnificent sunset at Big Sur -- even more beautiful and memorable because I shared it with her.

* The amazing realization that I could probably do this every day for the rest of my life and still not recount all the warm, funny, good and wonderful memories we shared.

* Puerto Rico: She wouldn't even drive the car around to the front of the hotel. Then our enjoyment of the rain forest because she was her natural self and more interested in the enjoyment of something new than whether or not her hair got wet. The wonderful time she had in Old San Juan during the day while I was working.

* Haiti: Her getting drunk on all those liqueurs -- especially the coffee liqueur. The Iron Market -- just a bit too close for a semi-drunk Lady.

* The way we loved to talk to each other. I still remember the comment of the flight attendant who thought we were on our honeymoon: "When you talk, you look into each other's eyes -- most married people don't do that."

* The day at the school yard when Brandy chewed up her new coat. Oh, God, I thought she might never see me again, but she was cool about it.

* How proud of her I was when she ran the school carnival the first time -- and made more money than they had ever made in its history.

* How she cried when I bought the house on Farley, because she hated it; then cried again when we left it -- because she loved it.

* The night she was sick and I put the gold bracelet on Samantha and told her to "Take it to Mommy" -- and she did, just like she knew Mommy needed cheering up.

* The night I had to go put the puppy in the other room before she would go in -- "If the puppy sees me drunk, he won't respect me." Tried to convince her that the puppy really didn't care, but she didn't buy it.

* Her real strength when Steven splattered the stuff in his eyes. She remained strong until she was sure that he was all right.

* All the wonderful times and talks out back in "The Swing."

* The pure joy of watching her learn something new and exciting -- like watching a spider build a web or the night in Solvang when she first discovered the Milky Way.

* How each one of us made the other a better and more complete person.

* "Some do; some don't"

* The day she got so mad at Steven and me because we tore up the kite and threw it away -- after spending two hours bringing it home through the orchard and over the obstacles. Then her acceptance of the proposition that it had nothing to do with the kite -- only with doing what we set out to do.

* How proud of her I was for the way she took over the motorcycle shop and ran it well. It was her integrity and character that made her so good at it. And the pride I felt as I eavesdropped and listened to the salesman explaining to another shop owner what a wonderful job "that little Lady up in Escondido" was doing.

* The way we often seemed to read each other's thoughts -- often replying to something the other was only thinking, but had not yet said.

* The night she stripped off her clothes and went skinny dipping in the ocean.

* Taking the 650 up to Julian -- and having her go to sleep on the back.

* How much we enjoyed working together in the yard and garden.

* She never did paint the fence -- despite many promises.

* How she endured and managed the remodeling while I was in Texas running the Sunbelt Nursery

* Vouvray -- the wine and the village, and the wonderful afternoon we spent touring a winery in a cave.

* The day we played a tennis match for a new dress. I bought her the dress even though I beat her -- because I figured it was the last time I would ever be able to do it.

* How much we always enjoyed Big Sur Lodge -- even though, as one of our kids said, "There was nothing to do there." :-)

* Somewhere in Montana: Refused to have her picture taken with the buffalo because she had read somewhere that the buffalo could outrun her (Well, yeah, kinda . . .)

* Teaching her about football with pennies and dimes on the coffee table.

* The night we came up from the deck and Janet kept teasing her. Finally, Janet cutely pointed out that her blouse was inside out.

* Playing cribbage in the hot tub.

* She never had a pet in her life -- then married into a zoo (probably in more than one way).

* Pre-arranged dinners and salads prepared to guitar accompaniment. (Luciano, the maitre de, adored her and always made it special for her.)

* How she became even more beautiful with the passing years as her inner beauty enhanced her outer beauty.

* The hotel manager in Mexico who was asking for my credit card until she walked up, all tanned and beautiful and dangling gold. He took one look at her and said, "Is Ok."

* Impromptu trips down to Victor's restaurant (until it burned down)

* A whole day wandering through the British Museum.

* The wonderful hotel in Wales which I can barely pronounce, and still can't spell.

* The night at the hotel in Bonn, and the funny, but nice, little man at the front desk.

* Her first German beer -- and the next, and the next, . . . . . . .

* The pendant I bought "for her birthday" at the shop in Paris airport -- then ended up giving it to her before we even boarded the plane.

* Her explanation of why she was willing to climb the pyramid at Uxmal: "They only sacrificed virgins."

* How we would often go beach walking on the way home after a night out.

* The pure joy in her eyes when she learned how to skip from stone to stone to cross the creek.

* Paddling the rubber raft around in circles on the Russian River -- until we finally got coordinated.

* Sunday morning "church bells" in Grindelwald -- except that they turned out to be cow bells.

* The Sunday morning we were having champagne on the patio, and she decided to invite Mort and Mary for dinner. Twenty-five invitations later, a quiet dinner had turned into a party. (Maybe it was the champagne?)

* The fun we had finding a charm for her bracelet from each country we visited.

* The day we were dirt-bike riding and I looked back to see her lying on the ground with her feet casually propped up on her fallen bike. She explained, "You said I could stop and rest any time I wanted -- well, I'm resting."

* Watching her build her very first snowman.

* Late night walking in beautiful Vancouver.

* Arriving in Pauillo in a limousine longer than the town, and the fun we had tracking down her mother's history.

* The morning after Julie's reception when the lady came all the way down the street just to bring a little bit of leftover meat to my dog -- and, "Are you going to live here now?"

* "Baby Jane"

* "Sneaking" bread and sandwich stuff into one of the most expensive hotels in Paris because we were hungry for a real sandwich and didn't want to look like cheap tourists.

* The night at Rancho La Gloria when I hung my coat over the nearby lamp -- and the appreciation of the bass player who was making out in a car next to where we were doing the same.

* The fascinating flight around Mount St. Helens

* Lunch in a little restaurant in rural France, where the lady used her red sweater ("rouge") to understand how to cook her steak.

* The Cathay House in San Francisco

* Being with her on the floor of the stock exchange in New York.

* The crazy day in Costa Rica when I took the wrong turn and got us totally lost. She just treated it like another adventure.

* The joy it gave me to please her so much with our anniversary celebration in Costa Rica

* How much we both enjoyed stormy nights.

* Walking hand-in-hand through a soft, summer rain.

* When we stopped on the road in Scotland just to watch a sheep dog bring in the flock.

* The crazy things I did to disguise her Christmas presents -- steering wheel; motion sensitive buzzer, etc.

* Her mumbling over the map somewhere in Vermont (or close). I said: "Baby, are we lost?" She: "Do you really care where you're going?" RW: "Nope, not a bit." She: "Then we're not lost."

* How proud she was that she finally talked back to her father after all those years [ . . . except that he got mad and left, and I had two pallets of bricks sitting in the front yard for him to build planters. . . . oh, well. . . :-) ]

* The night she "abandoned" me outside in the semi-dark with that shark of a real estate lady. She thought that was really funny. (Looking back at it -- it was pretty funny, but it didn't seem so at the time.)

* The first night we met Dusty -- and had our Christmas tree stolen while we enjoyed his music. (It was worth it.)

* All those nights we spent enjoying the music of Dusty & Melissa

* The time she sorta indirectly told Walt that I was the one who had given her the black eye -- and he believed her!

* Our first night in Ireland -- her trying to read the map while I tried to remember to drive on the "wrong side" of the road.

* Her transition from a girl who thought it was "insane" to flip a coin to see if we went North or South, to a Lady who was ready to go anywhere in the world with thirty minutes notice -- and do it with carry-on luggage!

* The day I "abandoned" her in San Diego to go take over Sunbelt Nursery -- and the wonderful time in Hawaii that was Her reward for having put up with it.

* A little Latin Lady trying to explain "level" to a macho, Puerto Rican contractor -- he shoulda listened. Woulda saved him a lot of money.

* The time she held her nose and told the stupid caller: "This is a recording. If you want to talk business with my husband -- call him at his office."

* The way that people always remembered us wherever we went. I guess they just weren't used to seeing so much love.

* The little girl at the macadamia nut place in Hawaii as she tried to reconcile the ages of our kids with the length of our marriage, and finally concluded, "Well, I guess that could happen even back then."

* Her habit of "people watching" (and listening) and the night in New York when the guy at the table was breaking up with his mistress.

* On the street outside the bakery in Paris -- watching the little boys "sword fighting" with the long loaves of french bread.

* The time in San Diego when "her" brother-in-law, Al, came to visit and she decided to "show off" just a little bit with dinner and all -- totally blew his mind!!!

* The day in Paris when she was "protecting" her laundry basket from the lady who was trying to take it -- until the lady summoned a passerby who translated and explained that the lady worked there, and if Dot would turn loose of the basket, the lady would do her laundry.

* In London when we went to see "No Sex Please, We're British" -- I think she had more fun watching me than she did watching the play.

* Also London: The morning we decided to take our separate walks and gain a little private time.

* Ritual admiration

* A fire in the fireplace every night from Fall to Spring

* The time I built the cabinet in the garage -- then couldn't open the garage door. She promised not to laugh -- but she did.

* How good it always feels to please her.

* The "Runaway Box"

* The first time I really noticed her (at work) and walked into a post -- to the great amusement of everybody watching.

* Walking up the hill to the Neuch VonStein castle -- and the little old lady that passed us!

* The way she appreciated everything -- from impromptu jewelry to simple cards.

* Working together in the garden and watching the stuff grow.

* Evening walks in the back lot with the dogs and wine

* The Saturday morning after I had been gone for a week: we spent almost three hours over breakfast, took a long walk on the beach at Del Mar, then went home and made sweet Love -- trying to make up for the time not together.

* The day we stopped at the nursery just to buy a bottle of flea spray -- but the manager told her he knew how much she liked camellias, and he had "saved two perfect ones for her." So, we bought the flea spray -- two camellias, some planting mix and some B1 to help them start. Expensive flea spray. :-)

* The way she was always there to listen when my soul was troubled.

* When she finally managed to run a mile -- of course, maybe, I kinda didn't tell the whole truth about how far she had gone already. :-)

* The time she poisoned me with the spoiled egg rolls -- while being careful not to eat any of them herself.

* The day she had the ladies over for bridge, and I made sure to leave the light on her picture, knowing well that the first lady who used the upstairs bathroom would have to go in and look -- then at the rest of the collection and call the other ladies to come look too. :-)

* The Sunday morning she came out to the shop to tell me she had found a gray hair -- and given what that signified, "hadn't I better take advantage of her before she got too old?" Don't know if I ever did finish painting that door.

* Making the two Love Letter tapes for her.

* The fun we had tracking down the "My Eyes Are Beautiful" record and then buying it from the guy in Montreal.

* When she met me in Dallas, and the delicious, almost illicit flavor it had.

* The way she listened with her whole being when I talked with her.

* The time my Dad did everything but lick his plate because he didn't know there was more waiting in the kitchen and he didn't want to ask.

* Her playing pinochle with my Dad and when he was driving my Mom up the wall.

* The morning that Steve left her the camellia in the bowl on the table

* When she discovered that Sam knew where his ball was -- all she had to do was ask.

* The time she couldn't decide which of three formal dresses she liked, so asked me to help. I didn't like any of them, so asked, "Isn't there one that looks better on you?" Her answer was, "Well, yes, but it's very expensive." (Yup, it was, but it was also gorgeous and well worth the price -- on her!)

* The quiet little island of Kauai -- another place there "was nothing to do" -- except be with each other

* Even with all its complications and frustrations -- the joy we had in planning and working to make an old house into "our home" -- a home that reflected and embraced our way of living and loving each other.

* When she finally got to pick out her own car, just for her -- after the years of driving the family station wagon.

* How much we enjoyed browsing through art galleries -- London, Paris, San Francisco -- and always managed to fall in love with something we couldn't afford.

* How much we enjoyed our visits to the Rodin Museum -- and how she saved me from a lifetime in a French jail for trying to steal Danaid.

* The wonderful collection of pictures from the annual Intermark dinner.

* Our luck -- or maybe our fate -- always seemed to furnish the most perfect people for us when we were traveling: Brenda in Hawaii; Alex in Costa Rica.

* Occasional language amusements -- like the time in Paris when I told the girl in the jewelry store that I wanted to by a "charm." She kept looking at me, then at Dot, then at me, then at Dot -- as if to say "you already brought your own; why do you want to buy more?"

* Paris again: She closed her eyes in the traffic circle around the Arch of Triumph -- and didn't open them again until I assured her that we were out of it.

* As someone once observed, "You two speak a language of your very own."

* Solvang and all the good times we had there

* The world-famous "Walden Cup" croquet tournaments

* All those warm and wonderful Christmases we spent together