Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Forty-Nine!

Somewhere in my collection of pictures is a picture of Judy in her lovely wedding dress, and Bob, looking very young and distinguished, cutting the wedding cake. It is a testament to my state of disorganization that I can't find it on this momentous day. However, next year will be the Golden anniversary, but in the meantime, congratulations, Judy and Bob, for your forty-nine years together. Your family has grown, and the affection you all have for each other is a testament to your goals in life. Even though this picture was taken 13 years ago, neither of you has changed very much since then. Clean living and hard work will do it.

5 comments:

Ann said...

How well I remember that day. I slept on the floor at Louise's house. Steve, did you stay home and milk the cows? It was a magic time - to get to be a part of Judy and Bob's wedding day. Happy Anniversary!

Elizabeth said...

Mother and Dad had a terrible time getting over South Pass on their way home. They stopped in Riverton and had Thanksgiving dinner at my house.

Ann said...

I don't remember the Thanksgiving dinner part or that South Pass was bad. I do remember we picked up a family whose car had gotten stuck on a side road up on South Pass and took them in to Lander.

Judy said...

This is a new picture for us! Thank you for your good words. Who ever thought that getting married the day before Thanksgiving would cause so much drama. But we were so thankful to have Dad, Mom, and Ann in her green velvet dress, there with in person. And the rest of the family in spirit or other contributions, ie: milking the cows.

Steve Blood said...

Yes, I got left behind, I had big plans for the weekend but they came to a screeching halt when I came down with what I remember as one of the worst colds that I ever had in my life. Newell had to come and milk the cows for me, I believe at least for two days. He also tried to cook the turkey dinner. It was a brave attempt with mixed reviews. I was always grateful for his help, I was sure that my life was ending.