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I talked to my grandparents on the phone tonight. My grandma asked me the same question she always asks: "Clare, dear, are you doing any writing?" And I said, as I usually do, "No, not lately. I really should."

"You should!" she answered. "You should be writing down how New York looks to you these days. So you'll remember."

As always, she's right.

But what to say?

one long laugh

Today is my grandparents' 59th wedding anniversary.  

When I called them on my way home from work, they wanted to tell me all about their lunch.  Apparently my grandpa decided to mark the day by taking my grandma to a seafood restaurant she loves, "which is all of fifteen minutes away," she supplied.  "It only took us two and a half hours," he chimed in.  Their commingled laugher echoed down the line.  It seems they took a wrong turn ("Your grandfather turned right, even though I told him to turn left, and of course left was the right way.") and while they have a GPS, they're not really all that good at using it. ("That damn thing kept telling us to go in a circle!")  But they made it, eventually, and the lobster was delicious.  

Then my grandma said, reflectively, "I remember when your grandpa asked me to marry him.  I told him, 'I think if I marry you, it's just going to be one long laugh.'  And you know... it has been."

They were still giggling when I hung up with them.

We should all be so lucky, eh?