Seventeen years ago today, at just about this time in the afternoon, the everloving and I stood on the dock of the lake at Trout Lake and plighted our troth. We then decamped and took over most of Waazubee’s for our reception that night.
Happy anniversary, angel!
Finally, after two weeks of blowing smoke, I can see the North Shore mountains this morning! They are a bit grey and misty, but they are back, and that’s all that matters.