Three Down, Seventy to Go...

I'm a writer, although one that's prone to long bouts of non-writing. Words are the way that I express myself, for good or bad. My wife is, among a million other things, quite a private person.
I'm sure you can see how these two might occasionally come into conflict. At the risk of ticking her off, and getting myself into trouble, today's blog is all about her.

I met Mrs. Rogue (as literally all of you should know by now) Halloween night 2003. She was skeptical of the red faced, smooth talker who was a little too sure of himself, but I was in love. After only nine months worth of convincing, I talked her into marrying me, and my life has been significantly better for it.

Today marks our third anniversary. Ella has now outlasted everyone except my mother, father and sister for time spent living with me. She's never kicked me out of the house or threatened to leave herself (I'm sure the fact that her animals and plants are all here has something to do with THAT). We fight and fuss from time to time, but I know for a fact that it is significantly less often than your average couple.

We've been to Jamaica, Canada, the Ohio River Valley, North Carolina and all over Europe together. Each time we return home, I can't help but be excited about our next adventure. As someone who's a little bit of a homebody, I know that without Ella I might never have seen half of these places.

She might have married wealthier, or more handsome, though she would of been hard pressed to marry smarter. Her In-laws might have been from better stock with more pedigree to their name. Her home could have been bigger and her car a little newer. But I think she knows (or is about to) that she would never have found someone who treasures her more.

She's my best friend, my teammate, my compatriot and my co-conspirator. Most of all she's mine, and I'm eternally grateful to be hers. Happy anniversary, Ella, thanks for three years and here's looking forward to seventy more.