My wife, Tamara, is a miracle of nature. She grew up in rural Utah, a feral child who knew which plants are edible: sucking the nectar out of flowers and eating "cheesies" (a weed) from the yard. She was out and unsupervised from dawn until dusk.
She is a master cook. She can make pies from scratch. Any kind of food from scratch. She gathers fruit from local trees and makes jam every summer. She keeps a clean kitchen, a well-stocked pantry and cooks up a storm morning noon and night.
She is thrifty. She loves to buy things on sale. When she splurges it's on food and staple items.
She is quick to serve, to rush out and help a soul in need. She gives without counting the cost..
She is the genuine article. She wears the same face in public and in private. There is no guile. She is quick to forgive and never bears a grudge, not even for ten minutes. She probably won't even get upset about me posting this quite unflattering pic. It's a moment of fun for us while cleaning the garage.
We've been married now fifteen years. She has brought four gorgeous, healthy children into our lives. She bore each of them natural-like with no intervention. She goes into this trance and lets it happen.
The day we met, she wore a green lace dress. We were at church. I was a Sunday School teacher and she was in my class. From the day of our first date to engagement was nineteen days. I guess I had a lick of sense after all. I sensed that Tamie was a good thing going.