University of Texas: 43
Texas Tech University: 40
Hook 'em Horns!!!
University of Texas: 43
Texas Tech University: 40
Hook 'em Horns!!!
Spending more time at work than at home is hard on a marriage. Spending personal time with coworkers of the opposite sex can lead to adultery. Hanging out with people who are bitter about their marriages can make you bitter about your own. I should go into the research business. I could apply for grants to study marriage, write common sense reports that would be obvious to any idiot, then pocket the leftover grant money.
It's good for a husband and wife to spend their leisure time together, but only if they both enjoy the activities.
No matter how careful and loving parents are, divorce devastates children.
A husband and wife had seven sons, who all eventually got married. There hasn't been a single divorce among them, and now the family represents 433 collective years of marriage.
When I started writing this blog, I actually told my parents about it, and my in-laws as well. I don't usually write about embarrassing things, so it's not much of an issue. I pity this guy, though. My blogging service, Blogger, has responded to the article with advice on what to do if your mom stumbles across your blog. (In case you don't know, The Onion is a satirical newspaper, and its stories are not real. But they can be very funny.)
I have adapted atimelikethis.net into a romantic comedy screenplay. I'm trying to find a distributor now.
I wish I had read an article like this when I was twenty. It contains quite a bit of solid, practical advice. It might have saved me some grief. Then again, I was probably too misguided and stubborn to have paid attention anyway. I'm just glad everything worked out the way it did.
I came across an article over at Deeper Devotion that offers some advice on choosing a spouse. It's the sort of advice a lot of married people gave me when was single, along the lines of If you just depend on your feelings, you could get yourself into a messy situation and Choose your mate wisely and don't settle for less. I resented it at the time, thinking that married people have no idea what it's like to be single and lonely. But now I can see the wisdom in it, and now I also realize that a lot of married people endured years of loneliness before their weddings as much as I did. Still, I look back and see that people told me a lot of stupid things, too. Fortunately, I didn't listen to the half-hearted encouragement and ill-informed opinions any more than I heeded the good advice.
Let me give some advice to people who like to give advice: Never say to a single person, "Don't worry. You'll get married some day." It's the most transparent, condescending, and unhelpful piece of falsely hopeful tripe ever uttered by a human being. Also, when a young man has been told by a young woman, "I just like you as a friend," don't try to cheer him up by telling him that the young woman's statement is good news because it's better to be friends first. It's true that the most enduring romances grow out of the deepest friendships, but that really doesn't apply to the situation. When a girl tells a guy that she likes him as a friend and nothing more, what he hears (and probably what she means) is that at best she sees him as a eunuch with a decent personalitynot good news at all.
Anyway, there's nothing like that in the Deeper Devotion article. Kristy Smith, the article's author, actually provides practical advice on how to choose who you marry. She sets out ten questions to ask yourself when looking at a potential mate. Here's how they apply to me and Mrs. Happy:
I will address the remaining seven questions in tomorrow's post.
My wife is something of an artistnot the bizarre, fixed, cold type of artist who obsesses over color spectra and schools of technique and philosophy, but rather the thoughtful kind of human being who tends to see things a little differently and skillfully puts her vision down on a blank page or canvas so the rest of us can see it too. She's not extremely prolific or driven to spend four hours a day in her studio, but probably about once a week she gets the urge to create something. For her the act of creating art is a spiritual experience. In her own small way she emulates the One who created her and expresses something of herself in the art she makes.
Our stay in Vermont last week inspired her to paint a landscape. We saw rolling mountains bursting with fall-colored trees. We saw early American architecture in houses, inns, shops, and covered bridges. We saw the work of artists such as Grandma Moses, Norman Rockwell, and a number of incredibly talented regional painters, sculptors, and craftsmen. If I were an artist, I would have been inspired myself. After viewing the furniture of Peter Maynard, I felt a sincere desire to become a carpenter. Of course a memory of my failure to construct a six-sided box in junior high woodshop quickly squelched that feeling, but Mr. Maynard's furniture was cool nonetheless.
Anyway, one day during our vacation Mrs. Happy really wanted to paint. She hadn't brought any of her art supplies along on the trip, however, so we went to the nearest grocery store in search of cheapo kid water colors, colored pencils, drawing paper, anything that she could use. The grocery store disappointed us greatly. It had drawing paper, but no paint of any kind, no colored pencils, no colored pens, no markers, nothing. Drawing on all the ingenuity at our disposal, we purchased a pad of drawing paper, a bag of Skittles, a bag of M&Ms, a package of Q-Tip brand cotton swabs, and a seven-day pill organizer.
When we got everything back to the hotel, Mrs. Happy put seven different colored candies into each compartment of the pill organizer and put some water in a glass. She dipped a cotton swab in the water, rubbed some of the coloring off of a Skittle, then transferred the artificial dye to paper, thereby creating her own sweet water color painting.
I usually write about things that directly concern the topic of marriage, but today I just want to say that my wife is so cool. Click on the small image below to see her candy-colored painting. Click on the small image below that to see a pencil drawing of her impressions of the trip in general.
As I mentioned yesterday, I don't feel good. My symptoms include congestion, sneezing, coughing, headaches, sore throat, fatigue, and an aversion to Dr Pepper (that's how I know I'm really sick). These symptoms might stem from a cold or flu virus or an attack of allergies, though I'm pretty sure it's the allergies. Whatever their cause, the symptoms kept me in bed pretty much all day today (I'm writing this at about 6:30 p.m.). I don't get sick very often, but every illness I do experience makes me gladder than ever to be married.
In my single days, I hated being sick for two reasons: 1)it felt bad, and 2)I had no one to take care of me. I still don't particularly like feeling bad, but now that I have someone to take care of me I don't especially mind being sick. I never feel more comfortable and cared for than when I'm too weak to leave my bed and Mrs. Happy takes my temperature, wraps me in blankets, makes me chicken soup, keeps me supplied with water/tea/hot chocolate, and kisses my forehead all day long. When I'm sick, I'm vulnerable. I entrust my well-being to her, and she always proves worthy of the trust.
On the other side of things, I don't much like for her to be sick. I do enjoy and crave the responsibility of caring for her in her vulnerability, but I hate the helpless feeling of not being able to heal her myself. About a year ago she developed some sort of bronchitis and could not stop coughing. She suffered quite a bit, but (even by her account) not as much as I did. I hated that I couldn't defend her from the infection inside her body. I wanted to take it into my own so that she wouldn't have to hurt anymore. But I couldn't. All I could do was give her medicine, keep her as comfortable as possible, and kiss her forehead all day long.
The illnesses my wife and I have experienced so far have been fairly minor. Five years ago we promised to love each other even in sickness, and we've had no problems doing that. Several people close to me have had to love a spouse through both serious and terminal illnesses. I can't begin to imagine the pain of that. I take comfort, though, that Mrs. Happy and I will be together to nurse each other through any future catastrophe that may arise.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go lie down. I think I hear the tea kettle whistling.
I'd like to thank all my guest bloggers from last week for filling in for me while I was secluded in the mountains of Vermont with Mrs. Happy and her parents. The week was wonderful and relaxing, but also aggravating because of some horrible and unidentified allergen permeating the air. Fortunately, I didn't feel its effects until Friday, but I have still not fully recovered, hence the late and sparse posting today.
Until I can regain use of my nasal passages and mental faculties, I'd like to point out a couple of links I added to the left sidebar recently. Dr. Bradley writes a blog called kill as few patients as possible. He is a husband, a dad, Catholic Christian, and family doctor in semi-rural east Texas. He writes about whatever is on his mind, but his posts often focus on medical issues, and they are always enjoyable. Ten Years of My Life is an ambitious effort on one man's part to take a photograph every day for ten years. Matthew Haughey posts a new picture every day, and I enjoy seeing what he comes up with.
I guess I'll also take this opportunity to explain the links at the bottom of my posts for those of you who are not blog-savvy. If you clik the link titled Comment on this! (0), a new window will pop up in which you can type a comment and read comments that others have left. The number in parenthesis is the number of comments people have left. If you click the link titled Permalink, your browser will take you to an archived page containing the post that offers the Permalink. Since posts on the front page move to archives after one week, this feature allows you to bookmark, cite, and e-mail specific posts.
That's all for today. I have to go blow my nose. And take an Advil. And a nap. Again. I hate allergies.