It was our 35th wedding anniversary on the weekend. The big question in the weeks leading up to it was how to mark 35 years that have encompassed just about everything you can think of, including good times and bad times, happy and sad times, two great kids, two dogs, seven cats, 14 different houses and lots of love.
For the last two big-ticket anniversaries, which were Silver and Pearl (sounds like two hippie sisters, doesn't it?), we went to Melbourne and stayed at the Hilton.
This time we had to be a bit more circumspect because our house still needs some work.
I say "some" but what I mean is "lots of". The 1965 kitchen still has to be replaced, the floors need to be sanded and sealed, the outside walls need to be rendered because the mortar is falling out, we need plastic blinds for the deck we had built (the prevailing winds up here on the hill are westerly, easterly, southerly AND northerly), and the 1960s decorative concrete-block boundary wall (does this get better and better or what?) needs to be knocked down and replaced with a fence.
A word on kitchens: if you need to be cured of the retro decorating bug, come and visit me. I have a kitchen overflowing with original 60s laminex - white with curly, silvery fibres all the way through it. It looks like a busload of senior cits decided to stop off at the laminex factory and trim their pubes.
Back to the wedding anniversary: we discovered on the internet that your 35th is Coral (Silver and Pearl's mum, presumably).
I was stunned, I can tell you. 35 YEARS AND ALL YOU GET IS DEAD REEF?? What were we supposed to buy each other? An aquarium?
My husband offered to buy me a DVD of The Battle of the Coral Sea. I declined, which was good, because it forced us to sit down and work out what we'd really like.
Which turned out to be decent ugg boots. Seriously.
Having never paid more than 20 bucks for a pair (good ol' Kmart), we decided we'd lash out on the super-duper versions they sell at Wombat Lodge down here.
Romantic? Maybe not. But we'll know in our hearts that when the renovations are finished and all our money is gone and we're freezing our tits off because we can't afford to turn on the heater, at least our feet will be nice and warm.
