Newlywed Love (#75)

July 6-10, 1970

As Nate and I adjusted to life without our little “fur-pants” (Mom’s nickname for Baron), we begged Mom and Dad to bring him for a visit the very next weekend. But they were busy people, and the best they could do was 2 weeks hence.

That was good enough for us, something grand to anticipate. Mom described how she and her new little buddy were happy companions, going everywhere together. She bragged about him as if he was her child, and we loved knowing she was enjoying him that much.

Nate registered for two difficult summer school classes, and that same day got word back about another job – a 55-mile rural newspaper route. The boss promised he would earn $100 per week [equivalent to $25 per hour], and we were over-the-moon about it. We couldn’t believe that each hour he worked would earn as much as donating a pint of blood!

There were several conditions:

He’d have to use his own car, adding some serious wear and tear with the endless stops and starts.
He had to report to the newspaper office by 4:00 AM each day to fold and rubber-band papers, so they could slide into country mailboxes.
All the papers had to be delivered by 6:00 AM.

But Nate had always loved newspapers, and the job seemed to be a good fit. It wouldn’t interfere with his classes and would be the steady income we needed. He didn’t hesitate to agree to the conditions, and we celebrated with Cathy and John by making a quick trip to Dairy Queen.

Life was looking up, and even my summer school was getting easier. Surprisingly, I found myself learning more than the students through my endless reading and planning each evening. And I was getting excited about trying out new educational ideas on my own students, come September.

Though we missed our darling doggie, it helped to know we would see him soon. In his absence, something interesting was happening between Nate and me.

When Baron had been there to entertain us, we had focused together on his silly antics and drifted away from “entertaining” each other. But without him around, we resumed getting silly all by ourselves, just like we used to do. This focus-change was deeply satisfying to both of us.

I journaled about my renewed joy in him:

Married life is so beautiful, I keep wondering when each new day will cease to be neater than the one before! When I wake up each morning and look at Nate next to me, I about giggle with delight at seeing him there and being able to snestle with him right then and there. He’s so good looking and always so fresh and clean —

Nate (Poopsie to me) began thanking me for everything from my still-strange cooking, to cleaning the bathroom sink, to washing his underwear, to sewing on a button. Married life was good indeed.