Snorkeling, surfing and then some

Okay, so obviously I decided it was better to make mini-posts about the trip, complete with pictures. This should be the last such post.

After the wedding, K and I -- and the maid of honor -- all went to Haunauma Bay to go snorkeling. It's one of the best snorkeling sites in the world. I went two years ago when I was in Hawaii, but I didn't think we went on a good fish day. I was excited to go again with K.

Imagine our disappointment when we arrived at beautiful Haunauma Bay to see this:

The person working the front entrance told us that 24 people had been stung that day alone. The jellyfish had been ot for about 10 days. Usually, they're only out for about three or four days, but this time, they were out longer. I did a quick poll of people leaving the bay, and no one coming out had seen any jellyfish or seen anyone else get stung. The last two guys I asked said, "No, we didn't see jellyfish, but we saw turtles!"

I said, "Hey, I jumped out of an airplane yesterday. I can handle some jellyfish!" We did discuss the fact, though, that if one of us got stung, someone would have to pee on us.

We had to watch this nine-minute video before we could snorkle. It told us things like not to feed the fish, not to step on the corral and to respect the creatures in the bay. The video had a couple jingles that went along with it, and I was cracking up at the cheesiness.

Once we got into the bay, though, we saw quite a few really pretty fish.

a sea slug

And the best part? We didn't even see any jellyfish! Once we got out, our bravery was rewarded when we looked up and saw a really pretty rainbow.

We had one place left to go that day -- a lighthouse. We stopped off at a fiew scenic points along the way.

We saw this couple taking wedding pictures. I'd have been scared to be climbing on those rocks in such a long dress, but I'm sure once they get the pictures, she'll be glad she did!

We saw this gecko when we were by the blowhole. He was trying to run away at first, but once K caught him for this picture and put him back down, I guess he realized we weren't going to hurt him. He sat right on the concrete ledge where K put him for a good two or three minutes, just letting us take pictures of him.


Doesn't this picture make you want to live there? And this is right off the highway, on my uncle's daily drive to work. Must be nice!

After those stops, we made it to Makapu'u, the lighthouse off the coast. It was about a mile-and-a-half hike to the actual lighthouse (you can see the lighthouse from the road, but this is -- obviously -- a closer view), and there was a whale-watching point halfway up. I'm not sure if we saw any whales or not, but we did see some rain moving in from the ocean. It was really pretty and neat to see.





K and me at the whale-watching point.











the rain moving in

Once we made it to the top, we had a great view of the lighthouse from that angle, as well as another part of the shoreline and two small islands -- one of which I think is Chinaman's Hat.

Okay, I feel like I've been blogging -- and formatting -- for three hours now, so here are our surfing pictures. Fun fact, by the way: The guy who taught K and I lessons that day is the very same guy who taught me how to surf two years ago that very weekend!

K loves this picture because I'm laughing while I'm surfing. Personally, I think it looks goofy. Oh well. :)

Hey, you gotta make sure you're decent while you're up there for the world to see!

Bagpipes, the bouquet and the beach

K and I woke up early Saturday morning -- St. Patrick's Day -- to get ready for my cousin's wedding, which was the whole reason we were in Hawaii. I was to go to my cousin's room in our hotel at 9:30 so we girls could get ready together, and the groom was to come to our room so the guys could get ready together. Well, as things often do, everything was running behind.

The wedding was supposed to start at 11. I got to Alicia's room at about 9:45 (late thanks to room service, but I'd given my cousin a head's up on that). I was already showered, so I still had plenty of time to throw my hair back, put on some makeup and slip into a dress. When I got to her room, I was surprised to see Alicia wearing very little makeup and still straightening her hair. She immediately instructed her fiance, maid of honor and me to head down to the lobby to meet her parents and help unload things for the ceremony. K met us in the elevator, since Alicia had called him too.

We all unloaded and helped for a while. At 10:15, I was still in my "Sooners" shorts and a tank top, with no makeup on, since I'd been helping unload.

Soon after that, I got back to the room, and things were still pretty frantic. Alicia's phone was ringing constantly. Her maid of honor and I were in the room with her, but everyone else was setting up. One person would call looking for everyone else, or my aunt and uncle would call needing more help unloading. My cousin was still straightening her own hair. The photographer was late.

This was supposed to be a casual wedding. Alicia had only been engaged for about three months, bringing her total time of knowing her groom to about five months. Obviously, there wasn't a whole lot of planning time involved. At the same time, her dad is the preacher. The wedding party was there, so what more could fall apart, really?

Well, evidently there was a St. Patrick's Day parade in Waikiki, complete with a bagpipe performance -- at our hotel. Alicia hates bagpipes.

She was also having trouble fixing her hair and getting it to look how she wanted it to.

My aunt (the bride's mother) had lost some safety pins in the unloading frenzy. Evidently the pins were needed for something on the dress, so she wound up sewing it right then and there.

The late photographer, the scrambling parents, the guys coming up to ask us (from the hallway) which one was to wear which shirt ... there was a lot more stress that morning than I expected for such a small gathering.

Everything worked out well, though, and it turned out beautifully. The bagpipers even left for their parade -- right at 11! They did happen to walk by as we were about to begin the ceremony. And you know the maid of honor and I had to get a picture with them in their little kilts!

The ceremony was short and simple, as Alicia and her now-husband wanted it. Their kiss was the shortest wedding kiss ever. We joked about it, calling it the "Baptist wedding kiss" (I can totally say that because I'm Baptist).

After the ceremony was over, it was picture time. We were less than 100 yards from the beach, so we walked over to take some pictures there.

I swear, every single person on the beach was staring at us. It was kind of funny. I was glad if everyone was going to be looking at us that I wasn't in a bikini or something. We did get some great pictures, though.

All in all, it was a nice wedding -- short and simple, but really pretty. We had a nice picnic afterward, and my aunt came up to K and me and said to K, "You know, we've got a minister right here. You both are all dressed up. It only takes a few minutes to get a marriage license."

K shook his head, laughing, and said, "I think there'd be one man who'd be pretty upset with me about that."

"My dad? Nah, he gave you permission a long time ago," I said to K.

My aunt said to him, "Hey, he'd probably thank you for it. You'd save him a ton of money."

(Side note: When I told my dad about this later, he said he's going to have to have a talk with K next time he sees him because he wouldn't have been upset. And my aunt was right -- he'd have thanked K for saving him money.)

I told most everyone at the picnic -- including the videographer -- that I was going to catch the bouquet. I don't think it was a big secret to anyone. It definitely was no surprise to my family. The videographer even interviewed me about it.

When it came time to gather for the bouquet toss, though, I was on the outside of the group. Alicia turned and looked at me twice as she prepared to throw it. When she released the bouquet, it went right into the middle of the group, several people away from me. I went for it, but it was kind of a lost cause. This 6-foot-plus girl who was built like a linebacker wound up catching it. Jerk.

I've caught the bouquet before, though -- in September 2005 (just a couple weeks before I told K I knew I wanted to marry him). K caught the garter at his cousin's wedding in May 2006. What's great is that he had held up his hands in front of his face so he wouldn't catch it. And the garter landed on his little finger.

I told the videographer I was disappointed, but the past seems to show that the magic of the garter and bouquet tosses are lost on us. Maybe it's better luck that I didn't catch it.

We'll just have to see how all that goes. Since it was a St. Patrick's Day wedding, it's only fitting to quote an Irish proverb: "The most beautiful music of all is the music of what happens." (Unless it's bagpipes?)

Why would anyone jump out of a perfectly good airplane?

I came up with the brilliant idea to go skydiving once K and I found out we'd both be going to Hawaii. We'd talked about going sometime, and Hawaii seemed like the perfect opportunity.

As you can see, when the time came, I realized the true brilliance of my idea. Everyone else looked excited. Freaks!

K was the only experienced jumper on our plane -- well, besides the guys we were all strapped to. They were making quite a bit of jokes: "Really? It's your first time? Mine too." "Oh, you're jumping with Jason? Yeah, he's upstairs shootin' up before the jump. He has a litle bit of a problem."

We were still climbing when the videographer, Lyle, opened the door to take this. I gripped the wall because I was terrified we were on a plane with an open door. Ha!

As Lyle filmed, Jason (my instructor) said to me, "Do you ever have that feeling like you're forgetting something?"

"Please just tell me you have the parachute."

"Yeah, well, I don't have that feeling right now. I just wanted to know if you'd ever had it."

This little Asian kid was the first to jump out. He was completely by himself, and he looked all of 18. Then it was K's turn. I was so scared to see him fall out of the plane and disappear into the clouds. It occurred to me that if anything happened to him I would be absolutely devastated, and it would be totally my fault, since this whole trip was my idea to begin with. I'd spent the last few minutes of our ascension into the clouds praying for all of our safety, so I was hoping the fact I was probably inches away from God would make him that much more likely to hear and answer my prayer.

And then it was my turn. There was a bar above the door, and I held onto it. I didn't want to fall out before it was time -- like that would matter. I noticed later when I watched the video that the instructor pulled my hands off the bar. I wasn't gripping onto it or anything, but I didn't want to leave that plane before we were both ready. (Or at all, really!)

I closed my eyes, and I felt Jason tilt us forward. I opened my eyes for a split second to see nothing but puffy, white clouds inches in front of me. I closed my eyes tight and remembered how they'd told me to make sure I breathed while we were jumping. I concentrated hard on that advice.

Plane, come back!!! (My eyes are totally closed in this picture!)

Suddenly, I heard Jason say something to me. I opened my eyes to see Lyle falling just feet away from us. He was facing me, and he was making faces and smiling. The camera attached to the helmet on his head was rolling. He pointed at it. I didn't care about looking cool for the camera -- I was still scared. But I did at least try harder to keep my eyes open.

I'm pretty sure right here I was saying, "Oh my gosh!" and trying to pretend I hadn't really just jumped out of an airplane.

I actually almost don't look terrified here. Note my total lack of facial control. Yeah, that's hot.

Me by the sun. Between the clouds. Pretty sure that's not normal.

Me in a cloud. Pretty sure that's even less normal. In case you were wondering, it was very cool and damp -- like fog. If I wasn't so scared, I think I'd have been freezing.

I didn't notice until later that my instructor had actually jumped in flip flops. And to think -- I'd changed into tennis shoes just before because I figured you couldn't jump in sandals. Then again, he had jumped 6 times that day and more than 3,000 in his lifetime. It was also his 41st birthday. What a way to spend it!

Once we came out of the clouds, Jason pulled our chute, and it felt like we were hanging in midair. I remember thinking, "Oh God, are we going to be suspended here forever?" (Way to panic!) After falling about 5,000 feet at about 120 miles an hour, that drastic slow-down felt like a total halt.

Just then, Jason said, "Hold on a sec," and I felt him messing with something above our heads. A while later, he said, "Okay, we're good now. Almost had to use the reserve chute."

"WHAT?!!" I screamed. "You had to use the reserve chute?!"

"No, no, no," he said. "We were a little tangled, and we almost had to, but I got it under control."

For some reason, the thought that we had no backup was absolutely terrifying, so I was glad to hear we still had a giant piece of fabric folded safely on his back to keep us from plumeting into the ground.

We did have a great view, though.

Just as I was starting to enjoy the view, Jason told me he was loosening my straps that connected me to him. "Why?!" I asked. He told me it would be more comfortable that way.

"I'm comfortable, I'm comfortable!" I insisted. Hey, as far as I was concerned, those little black straps were all that was keeping me (well, that and the giant piece of fabric) from falling into the ground. I could handle a little pinch for a minute or two!

He pointed out a brown and yellow chute landing far below us. "That's your boyfriend," he said. At that point, I realized I had no idea what color our parachute was. I looked up, and there it was: a big, bright yellow and red parachute. Yellow is my favorite, and you've gotta love red. Awesome.

We started circling down over the beach, heading toward the landing area just to the south of us, which happened to be about a football field's length from the shore. As we got closer to the ground, I heard K yell out to me, "I'll catch you!" You can hear him say that on my video. :)

The landing was good. I landed on my feet, and I didn't stumble or anything. I was very glad to be safe and sound and on the ground. Whew!

As soon as I landed, the videographer said to me, "So do you think you'll do it again?"

Very quickly and matter-of-factly, I said, "No."

But hey, I can say I did it, right?

Four days in Hawaii are definitely not enough

Our time in Hawaii flew by very quickly. We did sad things: We visited Pearl Harbor, and we ate at Chili's -- in Hawaii. We did happy things: We went to the wedding, and we visited one of K's friends who lives there. We did dangerous things: We jumped out of a plane, and we snorkeled through a jellyfish alert and the knowledge that 24 people had been stung in the bay that day alone. We ate (and drank) some yummy things, and we surfed.

The one thing four days in Hawaii didn't give us enough time to do? Relax on the beach. Yeah -- pathetic, I know.

Oh! But I did get some MAJOR bling in the form of a ring, although it wasn't quite what I'd been hoping for ...

I'll blog more about the trip tomorrow, but I need to get some rest. For now, here are some pictures to hold you off.












































































Me with my, um, "bling.

Scandalous

(and part of the reason PostSecret is so addicting!)















(While I'm on this topic, I totally want to know the rest of this story!)

Why I always have Drano in my apartment

K's shower has been kind of clogged over the last couple weeks, so his roommate called a maintenance guy to come take a look at it. The maintenance guy did his thing and fixed the drain. When he was finished, he asked K's roommate, "Which one of you has a girlfriend with long, brown, curly hair?"

Kinda funny ... kinda sad

Okay, so do you remember that holy terror that lived with me for like 6 months and managed to practically ruin my apartment? Remember that nice person I sent him off to live with -- that nice, recently divorced friend whose wife had gotten their two cats?

Well, as we speak, my friend is taking Nood!e/Seb@sti@n to a no-kill shelter. My friend says the cat is too needy and has become too much to handle. He says he thinks the cat would be perfect for an older person who needs the company or for a widow or someone who would really appreciate and enjoy having an overwhelmingly affectionate cat. Honestly, I think he's right. I toughed it out for 6 months -- 6 months with very little sleep, mind you.

The shelter he called said they weren't taking animals because all shelters are pretty full, but they asked (just for giggles) a couple questions about the cat. When they heard he's a neutered Siamese who's very affectionate, they said, "Bring him in. He'll get adopted in no time."

Nood!e/Seb@sti@n, here's hoping it works out better for you this time.

I'm still alive!

I have been so crazy busy lately! I've been getting home from work just in time to eat dinner, get some things done around my apartment and then rush off to tan (yes, I know, but at least this way I won't burn in Hawaii) and go to the gym, only to come home, shower and get to bed. Last week I managed to get to bed at 10:30 -- two nights in a row! Crazy!

I went to Louisiana last weekend. K and I went to the gym to work out with our normal workout buddies there. I ran 2.4 miles around the golf course on post. It's pretty hilly, and I've only run outside once in the past year. It went well, though. I did stop a couple times, which was disappointing, but I only stopped for a few seconds before picking back up.

Excuses: Things that make the fact I stopped okay: It was about 80 degrees, and it hadn't been that hot yet this year. The last time I ran outside was in Pennsylvania in May, and I'm not sure I'd ever really gone for a run in my life before that. Running on a treadmill in an air-conditioned gym -- level 1 vertical incline or not -- is not the same as running up and down hills on a sidewalk around the golf course. And given the girls' take on my running abilities, I wasn't demanding as much of myself because I'm tired of them thinking I just get out of bed and think, "I'll go run today" and it works out fine because I'm thinner than they are.

A group of us went to the movies Saturday night. All the guys wanted to see The 300, but I had no interest. Instead, I went with a couple of the girls to see Music & Lyrics. It's a cute movie. It's no Pretty Woman or Love Actually or anything, but it's good. I'm pretty sure I enjoyed it more than I would have The 300.

Last night after work I made a to-do list of all the things I need to do before Wednesday night, since we leave for Hawaii THURSDAY MORNING!!!

• Pack
• Go to the gym and tan every night
• Buy running shoes (Sunday morning when I woke up with a sore left ankle, I realized my tennis shoes I wear to the gym aren't running shoes. That's bad. Evidently -- according to Swift -- so is running on concrete [read: sidewalks]. So much to learn!)
• Paint toenails a springy color (fun!)
• Wash new swimsuit
• Wash new beach towels
• Get magazines from Wal-Mart
• Buy underwater camera for snorkeling/surfing adventures
• Make skydiving reservations

With all these things to do, Hawaii is feeling more and more real, and I'm getting more and more excited. I can't wait!

Attention, Yoplait!

I think yogurt companies should start printing fortunes on the insides of the lids of yogurt. I think it would make my little afternoon snacks that much more enjoying. :)

The hair gods were on my side last night

My guardian angels were watching over my hair last night. :) I gave the hairstylist specific instructions and told him I was nervous after the last fiasco. He understood and said he'd give me a haircut I loved and that everything would be okay.

I didn't give him much freedom with what he did, but he did do a great job. He did exactly what I asked: trimmed about an inch or so from my ends, kept the framing around my face and kept the light layering at the ends of my hair. He didn't touch the random layer I call the "shelf layer" that the jerkface added at my last haircut (The layer was above my shoulders, while the rest of my hair was at or below. Layers that go above your shoulders when your hair is straight are definitely not good news for thick, curly hair.).

This hairstylist also wanted to straighten my hair when he was done. I let him, since I was thinking about doing it myself anyway. I was relieved to see when he was finished straightening it that my hair was still a good few inches below my shoulders, which means it won't be above my shoulders when it's curly -- and which is very different from the last cut.

Hopefully my regular hairstylist will be back from maternity leave by the time I need a cut again. And by that time, my shelf layer should be long enough that she can make it disappear with the brilliant cut she'll give me.

For now, though, all is good in Hairland. Whew!

Pray for me today

I'm getting my hair cut today after work. The last haircut I had was in December, just before Christmas. It didn't go so well. It was horrible, in fact. I didn't blog about it because I was too traumatized. Take my word, it was bad. There was a reason I shelled out $140 for a straightener two days after Christmas.

I'm going to a different guy at a different Ulta, but I'm still scared. My hair may be decently grown out enough to hide the damage Ryan at Ulta did to me, but the emotional scars are still there.

Wish me luck.

You don't want to get in a napkin war with us!

This weekend was a total blast! Rebecca got to my place Friday night in time for dinner, so we went to one of my favorite Mexican restaurants and had dinner and margaritas and caught up while we waited for the boys to get here. We were both pretty tired after long days, so we came back to my apartment, got in our pjs, had some wine and watched Coyote Ugly. The guys had perfect timing, since they got here right after the movie was over. Rebecca and I both had managed to get some energy from lounging around, so we stayed up another hour or two talking to the guys.

Just two others besides K made it in. A group of guys was getting back from Afghanistan, which included the roommate of one of the guys who was supposed to be coming here for the weekend. He decided to stay behind to meet up with his roommate and help him get settled back in.

We all got up Saturday morning and went shopping and just hung out. We went to Fry's Electronics, which K absolutely loves. We spent a good amount of time there before coming back to my place and playing DDR. I was kicking some serious butt on that thing! I think K was impressed with my "dancing" skills. I think it would be awesome if people started doing those dance moves at clubs, so Courtney, feel free to add that to your repertoir (and GFF, for all that dancing you've been doing lately!). :)

We went to Dick's Last Resort for dinner. K and I had gone there once before in May, but it was a lot of fun to have a group this time. There were five of us, and we quickly took the role of being the Fun Table in the restaurant. Now, Dick's is a pretty crazy-fun kinda place, and there were lots of crazy-fun things going on. There were bachelorette parties everywhere. One bachelorette was selling condoms and lube. There was a bachelorette doing a Blow Job shot -- the correct way. There were servers putting signs on people's backs saying things like, "I thought Dick's was a gay bar" and "I cried during Brokeback Mountain." There was a Marine having a good time before he leaves for Iraq this week.















The bachelorette who did the Blow Job shot had quite an audience. I think everyone in the bar watched her. We were all talking about the shot when it came up that Rebecca had taken one once, and I never had. She decided she was going to order us each one. We did them correctly as well, and we managed to get an audience ourselves. Gotta have fun with the atmosphere, right?















One rule at Dick's is that you can -- and are encouraged to -- throw dry napkins. Being the Fun Table, we decided to start a napkin war. We would pick out tables that looked like they weren't having as much fun and bombard them with 100 napkin balls -- 20 from each of us. Pretty soon, there were napkins flying everywhere, and we were getting a new stockpile from our waitress, since we'd run out.






High fives for a great match! :)







Toward the end of dinner came yet another funny part. One thing about Dick's is the hats they give out. They put some smart-aleck thing on them or something funny and then place one on your head. You have no idea what it says until someone reads it to you. There was a girl with a hat that said, "I pee standing up." Bachelorettes had hats that said things like, "Getting married and still swinging," and "Hell in bed." One girl who was there with her mom and younger brother had a hat that said, "Mom's favorite."

When our waitress brought our hats over, we knew they were gonna be pretty good. I mean, c'mon -- we were the Fun Table!
























When she put my hat on me, though, and I was told what it said -- "I blow bubbles" -- I had no idea what it meant. There were some other hats that had to be explained to me, so I didn't know if mine was another such hat. And then, the waitress put K's hat on his head:

I'm feelin' it

I was so tired all day today at work. It was slow all morning, so that made it even worse. I was really struggling to stay awake for some reason. I went to bed last night at midnight, which is pretty normal, unfortunately.

I had slept in Sunday morning, though. Yeah, we were out kind of late Saturday night, but there was no reason to be as tired as I was.

I figured out I hadn't been to the gym since Wednesday. Maybe that had something to do with it.

I went tonight, and I had an awesome workout. My break did me some good! I did biceps and triceps with Jeremy, and I think my arms will be sore tomorrow. I'm getting pretty proud of my guns. :) Just last week I was wearing a short-sleeved shirt when a couple of coworkers asked if I worked out and commented on my guns. That hard work is paying off!

I got some abs in since Hawaii is just over one week away. Then, I did cardio.

Last weekend, I updated my iPod with a lot of music from K's library, so I have a ton of new music. That makes a major difference in working out! I didn't want to stop running! I kept saying to myself, "I'll go until I hit 3 miles. ... I'll go until I hit 400 calories. ... I'll go until I hit 30 minutes. ... I'll go until I hit 3.5 miles." Finally, I made myself get off because I had to get home to get to bed at a decent hour.

I feel awesome, though. Gotta love a great workout!

13

Thirteen days. That's the official countdown to Hawaii. Where K and I will go sky diving. Because I'm stupid enough to say, "Hey, I have an idea! We should go sky diving while we're there! It'll be fun!"

But Hawaii! Yay!

I CAN'T WAIT!

WAAAY excited for this weekend!

Rebecca, one of my good friends from college who lives in Austin, is coming to visit me this weekend. I don't get to see her very often, and we definitely haven't spent a whole weekend together in three or four years.

K is coming, and he's bringing three guy friends, one of whom we're hoping to fix up with Rebecca. :) The guys are all out in the field training this week, but they finish up this afternoon. I'm not sure when they'll get here, but Rebecca will be in Dallas in time for a nice girls' dinner. I think a couple of her friends who live in the Dallas area will join us too.

There will be 7 people -- including me -- staying at my apartment this weekend. Three girls (including me), four guys (including K), one bathroom. Whew!

It'll be fun though. I'm excited. SO excited. :)

50 years

Today is my grandparents' 50th wedding anniversary. That's a milestone not many couples are fortunate enough to make, for whatever reason.

My grandma is the stereotypical grandmother -- short, a little round, glasses and short gray hair. She's patient and kind, and she's the most amazing cook ever. You could give her the same basic ingredients anyone else uses to make a sandwich -- cheese, lettuce, lunch meat, pepper, regular old bread -- but she'll always wind up with the most amazing sandwich. I decided in high school that she had magic grandma fairy dust that she sprinkled on food to give it that extra Wow! punch.

My grandma has never had a drop of alcohol in her life. Her dad was an alcoholic, so she was terrified she would suffer the same fate if she ever had a drink. She makes Bourbon balls every Christmas, but she makes my grandpa go with her to a liquor store one county over. Then, she makes him go in to buy the Bourbon so people won't see her in a liquor store.

She sews, embroiders, cross stitches, paints, draws and colors amazingly. I used to sit next to her on the couch when I was little and watch her do all these things. She always hummed softly to herself, her ankles crossed and rocking back and forth contentedly.

My grandpa, on the other hand, is a little over 6 foot tall. He's also the typical grandpa -- glasses, bald hair except for the silver hair on the sides of his head, that classic grandpa style of dress.

All the guys in my family golf, and my grandpa is always dressed like he's ready to go play, just in case someone calls. In the summer, he wears khaki or denim shorts with a polo shirt tucked in. You can't forget the belt and the golfer's hat. Most important is his socks, which he wears pulled all the way up to about the middle of his calves. In the winter, he changes it up to khaki pants, but it's still polo shirts and that wickery golfer's hat.

My grandpa always had a little less patience with us than Grandma did. If we were ever acting up, all he had to do was start to move his hand toward his belt, and we would all straighten up.

He always sits in his recliner in their living room. That's Grandpa's chair. When my brother and cousins and I were little, we would sit in his lap and watch TV with him. Sometimes we'd have play wrestling matches on the floor. My grandma was always worried one of us would get hurt, but my grandpa always had a more sensible approach that if one of us got hurt, we shouldn't have been playing so rough.

When I was younger, I wrote a song on the piano about each of my grandparents. I never quite memorized it, as it wasn't the notes themselves that were important. Grandma's song was light and happy and soft, on the higher keys of the piano. Grandpa's was called "Grumpy Grandpa," and it involved several harder hits in the lower range of the piano.

Despite their different patience levels, they have some very important things in common: their love of sweets, their love of God and their love for their family -- especially their grandkids.

My grandma told me a few years ago that when she and my grandpa went through their pre-marital counseling, the preacher told them they shouldn't get married. My grandma had known my grandpa since junior high, though, and although she was only 18, she knew she had found her guy. I'm glad they didn't listen to the preacher with that advice, but I'm especially glad the preacher was wrong.

So Grandma and Grandpa, I hope you two have a wonderful day together. I hope you look back over these 50 years with a smile and excitement for the next 50 years.

I hope someday I'm one of those lucky people who gets to celebrate such a milestone.