Greg and I were married thirty years ago today. A long time, all things considered. We had a little celebration at our new favorite British Pub yesterday, high on deliciousness and low on fanfare, before watching a Pink Floyd movie nearly as old as we are. It was a grand day of relaxation. As the two previous days were spent spreading twenty yards of bark mulch around the front and back gardens, it was a welcome respite. The top photo is a glorious first glimpse. All the work rendered us both bone tired and me rather sleepless, too. I kept thinking about how far we have come.

The London Transport photos were the first “in-person” day of our honeymoon, after flying through Newark and overnight across the Atlantic, arriving bright and early in London. It also lets you know how short I am in comparison to Greg, as the photo booth stool was not adjustable.

The serviceberry is surrounded by a whole host of volunteers: goldenrod, penstemon, and evening primrose. Strong plants, like our mostly good habits, flourish when given proper attention.

Gardening is so much like the cultivation of a marriage. The lilac is probably as old as our house, and while it was quite large from all those years in the ground, not all of it was healthy. When we cut out the unruly bits and dead wood, it flourished. We’ve done this so many times in our relationship, with people and habits, and never been the worse for it.

On our trip, we were careful not to have too much. Everything we owned was on our bodies and backs, a repetition of the essentials. Any object that failed to meet the criteria was left behind. The same is true with our garden. We started with such a wide variety of plants! As the years pass, the number dwindles, as weather and animals (wild and domesticated canine) show us which are hale and hearty and worthy of replanting.

I was well into saving for a trip to Europe when I met Greg. After I was certain I liked him, I shared my plans and asked if he wanted to join me. He said, YES! For a time, we thought we might get married there, but in those days before the interwebs, it presented a logistical nightmare, so we made it our honeymoon.

We decided to travel for two months and saved for the nearly two years of our long distance engagement, while still in college (such young things), totaling $3000 dollars between the two of us. It was ALL in traveler’s checks that we kept secured, along with our passports, in pouches that hung around Greg’s neck and my waist. I cannot imagine such thrift nor travel without a credit card now. How we, and the times, have changed.

Then, as now, we still like to try new things, even if we decide they aren’t worth the bother. Topless bathing is one such example. How tan I was from all the walking though!

Thankfully, Greg and I learned early on, specifically when we were in Nice (France!), the value of rest. We had been go-going, walking much of every day and taking overnight trains to save on time, when it hit us. We were becoming crabby and 100% to each other.

So, in this place of great beauty and sunshine, we stayed for ten glorious days, lolling at the beach, reading and swimming, and sleeping in, too. Near the end of our stint, we even moved from a one-star hotel ($20 a night!) to basically an apartment, with a kitchenette, for $10 more a night. We could have cold and hot food and eat it at an actual table. The luxury!

I believe the greatest luxury of these past thirty years is the result of our dedication to each other. We are always striving to be and do better, in the garden, around the house, in how we treat each other. We are keen at observing the weeds and promptly taking care of them. We are better at loving, at giving each other space, at knowing when we are wrong and apologizing. We continue to blossom, and it feels like being the luckiest couple in the world.