I missed yesterday’s post due to being on the road and among the offline. We were in SVA for my parents’ 30th anniversary dinner, where many memories were shared, including this one from my mom’s friend:

“I do know that when they STARTED seeing each other that Martha and I lived at 8 N.W. St. in an apartment in the upstairs of Mrs. Nellie Fix’s house [actually, it WASN'T Mrs. Fix's house--we just thought it was. Turns out, ol' Nellie rented it and sold her landlord a bill of goods that she was so poor so he let her have it for a VERY low price. And then she rented out the upstairs to the point she hardly had to pay any extra to him. And of course, Mrs. Fix was a Christian...] Mrs. Fix was older and she and her little old lady friends would sit on the front porch of the house and make little “Oh, there’s the happy couple” remarks or something like that that really set your mom’s teeth on edge.”

My grandmother told an unrelated story about her brother-in-law, who approached her father in order to ask for a sister’s hand in marriage. He worked up the nerve to ask, “Sir, I’d like to marry your daughter.” Her father replied, “Well, I have 5 daughters. Which one do you want?”