This picture was at our backyard wedding in La Jolla on December 28, 1982. I was 29 and my husband, 33. We were slightly older than our oldest daughter is now, making a near perfect circle. 31st Anniversary gifts are timepieces, but last year, I gave my husband a watch, a year too soon, so this year my dad offered the sun-dial that sits in their backyard as a gift. However, that would have put my luggage way over the top on my return flight, costing another $50, so here is my anniversary gift year by year to my husband and to our family. It’s time for a “recap” of our years together. Here are thirty-one vignettes of our lives as a couple and then a family. This may take a while, as the saying goes, so I am “chunking” my writing a few years at a time.
Memories Year at a Time
Year 1 Newlyweds
12/28/1982 – 12/28/1983 We moved to Northern California after both of us landed teaching jobs at Seaside High. We managed this feat in the week before the start of school, as jobs in education are ought to do. Had we a marriage license in the interview (we were engaged), I doubt we could have taught in the same school, let alone down the hall from each other. I taught all life science, Dale—physical science and math.
During that time, Fort Ord was a significant military base of 22,000 army troops with a significant housing problem, which meant we had a problem as well. I packed enough of my clothes to start work, took the essentials for meals, and drove up first, while Dale stayed behind packing and cleaning our apartment. With less than a week to find housing on the peninsula, I scrambled, searching a wide range from cheap to inexpensive to nowhere-near-our-price-range. We had no assistance from House Hunters, and most realtors helped the military, who needed assistance far more than we did. Each night I gave a summary of my search:
Me—“I found a great place—1 Bedroom, 1 bath not too far from school, but it’s $100 more than we planned to spend.”
Dale—“Hmmm. Keep looking. I am sure you can find something better.”
Welcome to Monterey. Each phone call represented another $100 decrease in our budget. Prices were going up as the apartment size was going down. By the time I located a reasonable place to live, we had gone over by $300 and the place wasn’t ready for move in. Dale was thinking I was out of my mind, that we would be living in a veritable mansion or a fine estate overlooking a golf course in Pebble Beach. Instead, our first weeks at the start of the school year, we camped out in Carmel Valley and parked our rented U-Haul in an adjacent campsite. A solar shower at 6 am definitely wakes you up and ready for work. Trying to sleep at a reasonable time, say before midnight, while other campers are vacationing or partying, was also a challenge. Eventually, we moved to our first house in Pacific Grove, a tiny, 700 square foot cottage, on a large lot with a hot tub. The large lot was useless to us, as we never stayed long enough for a garden. Our hot tub we rarely enjoyed because the raccoons, who lived in the trees surrounding us, destroyed the cover, among other things. But, at least we were in a place, not in a tent looking at stars each night through the mosquito netting.
We explored the county parks and beaches on weekends, visited Gizdich Ranch and places in Santa Cruz, enjoyed the rainy weather that year—one of the wettest seasons I can recall. Everything leather in our miniscule closet, from jackets to belts and shoes mildewed in our tiny rental that never seemed to warm up. Later that January, we moved to a cute cottage with two bedrooms, on Pine St. and a bay window that looked across to Santa Cruz. I loved that house, including the broken, termite-bitten steps in the back, the old floor radiator, and stone fireplace; it had a charm that modern houses lack. We enjoyed countless visitors from Southern California that year, as family and friends descended on our place. This was the start to our marriage.
Love is Complicated 