FIFTY YEARS MARRIED.

Larry and Jan Seaberg invited us to a pot luck being held at the family lodge at the park. Mostly regulars with permanent sites, the folks that walk together in the mornings.


What Larry and Jan didn't know when they invited us is the party was a surprise celebration of their 50th wedding anniversary two days hence. I don't know everyone's names, but Bob, spelled with one-o, (the way he introduces himself) organized the celebration and presented them with a gift of gold inscribed 50th anniversary glasses.

Larry made a speech about what an event like this means. That long term marriages have ups and downs, and rewards. But he addressed this crowd, like he and Jan, who come from everywhere to beat the cold climate and enjoy their golden years in Palm Desert.  He said, loosely quoted, "Sure we come to this place like all of you. But, we also come because of the people here.  We wouldn't have continued for eighteen years if it weren't for friends, our second family. We know they always have our back and are there for us when we need them."


Jan, chased a tear and quipped, "Larry, do you think we'll remember the next 50?"


I tried to get pictures of everyone.


People like any opportunity to get together and chat.

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Before the sit-down, Jan made the rounds of people as they gathered in clumps to visit.

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There was a card for everyone to sign.


And a lovely cake.


And, that wiley Bob, with one-o, singled out another couple who have been married 60 years. And they, too, were presented with engraved glasses. Whatta nice guy. And what a nice couple.


Most likely other long-term marriages exist among the group given we are all seniors.


I expect everyone here is a candidate.


I was sitting next to Bob with one-o and his wife Ethyl, in the lilac blouse. They have been married 62 years. It must take a sense of humor. That is what I notice most about people who stay together. We had a lovely time. I ate too much of good food.


After desert, someone brought out a big  bottle of Kahlua. This lovely lady told me someone gave her a bottle as a gift. She never opened it. "Now, that I know how good it is," she said, "I'm going to open it."  I laughed.

I SHALL WEAR PURPLE AND HAVE FUN AT THE DENTIST

  It struck me as funny when I saw one of the gals at my dentist, Dr. Paul Berger's office, walking around with a handful of teeth. I meant to get her name and didn't, but she smiled and let me take her picture.

Then one of the dental techs stepped into the room, and clowned around as well. This was my first visit to Dr. Berger, so his staff members are still strangers to me, and obviously fun to be around. The proof is in the pictures. These two beautiful women with a sense of humor made getting a filling a lot less stressful. 

It was late in the day, and with mouth still slightly swollen, I dashed home, changed and headed for a party at the Murphys Hotel for the Calaveras Arts Council.  I walked in and there were the Red Hats enjoying a party of their own at the bar.

My good friend, Joellyn Gano was the first person I saw, outfitted in her gorgeous red hat and purple dress.

Several years ago,  I expected when I had "time", as though I could simply catch some, I would join the Red Hats because they have a lot of fun. I can always sit home and quilt when I'm old, which somehow is ten or more years beyond  my curent age.

I know nothing about the Red Hats organization, but I do know what inspired it, the poem: When I Am An Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple.
I expect everyone has heard of, or read the poem, but just on the off chance, I copied it from the poem's author's book by the same name. She is Jenny Joseph.

 WHEN I AM AN OLD WOMAN I SHALL WEAR PURPLE
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.