Lugnasa Superior Wolf Moon
Life has odd turns, none for me odder than renewing my season subscription at the St. Paul Chamber Orchestra in 1988 and finding my soul mate. As some of you know, we met there, dated for a couple of years, then got married in 1990.
We’ve traveled the world together, starting with Europe in March of 1990 as we followed spring north from Rome, all the way to Inverness, the capital of the Highlands in northern Scotland.
We’ve had three homes together, each one unique in its own way, but common in our commitment to make them places for family and for creativity.
Kate has been a nurse, a nurse anesthetist, a pediatrician and now a seamstress and quilter. She’s bright, obviously, completing the NYT crossword every morning, for example.
In our retirement we share a passion for dogs, gardening and bees, for jazz as well as
classical music. Kate cans, dries and freezes food. She’s a gourmet cook. Her grasp of numbers is impressive.
When Jon got married and had kids, part of our life turned toward the west, toward the mountains, toward Denver. That pull, grandkidtropic, eventually convinced us to leave over 40 years in Minnesota and move out here to Shadow Mountain. Now she’s grandma, enjoying the lives of Ruth and Gabe, teaching them what she knows, loving them.
Kate, the love of my life, the wife I needed but took some time to find, is 72 tomorrow. And living every day. Every day. Even the ones with staggering inertia.
