Almost 53 Years of Wedded Bliss

Sharon and Brent Gill

This beautiful lady was all of 14 years old when we first met.  I was 16, a Junior, and in the band at Porterville High.  Sharon was an incoming freshman.  She played flute, and I played Bass Clarinet.  That put my seat in the inside row, closest to the director,

The inside row (starting on the conductor's left) contained the 4 First Clarinets, and 2 Bass Clarinets. The rest of that row reserved for flute players.  At the time, I was dating the young lady furthest from my seat, the First Flute.

On the first day of Summer Band 1960, I was quite taken by a new girl with a flute case under her arm. She pranced into the band room, and spoke to the band director.  In my evaluation, she was what could only be termed a "fox." He waved her to the seat beside me, which didn't hurt my feelings at all.

As soon as she sat down, I turned to her. "Hi. I have a bet with my friend over here," I waved toward the other Bass Clarinet player, "that I can find out your name and how old you are before he can."

Guileless, she told me she was Sharon Ryan and she was 14 years old. Then she smiled that smile that still makes my heart flutter.

I turned to my friend, and said in a loud voice, "See, I told ya."

To which he looked most puzzled at me, saying only, "Huh? Whatcha talking' about?"

The First Flute and I broke up in October sometime, I dated a couple of other girls over the middle of the winter, and by March was dating the new flute player.

Before this Blog Challenge ends, we will celebrate our 53rd anniversary.  We have 3 amazing boys, 3 delightful daughters-in-law, and 8 grandchildren.

Mr. Boo, a Kissing Bull

Since the picture attached to the author's profile appears to be a rather large animal giving me a kiss on the chin, I probably ought to explain.

The animal is my hereford/angus herd sire.  His sole purpose in life is keep my cows happy and giving birth to calves.

He was raised in northern California on a small ranch.  His mother didn't survive some problems with his birth, so he was raised as a bottle baby.  In other words, instead of nursing his mother, he nursed on a large plastic bottle with a rubber nipple.

Dependent upon humans for security and nutrition, the little bull calf became quite friendly.  Even when he was old enough to live with the rest of the herd, he still wanted to be near and interact with his owners.  When we were considering purchasing him, the gentleman told us, "If  you go out in his pasture, he'll get in your way demanding attention."

The wife responded, "And he likes to give kisses too."

Any animal that gentle will most probably have a name, and this little bull was no different. He'd been being called "Eery Boo" by his owners, since his birthday is in late October.  We didn't think it had a good ring to it, so we started calling him Mr. Boo

When we unloaded Mr. Boo from our trailer he took a few minutes to meet the cows, then walked toward the house.  My wife, Sharon, went to the fence to talk to him, and assure him he was in a good place and would be well taken care of.

True to the wife's warning, Mr. Boo promptly proceeded to give a slobbery kiss to this new lady in his life .

Mr. Boo gives Sharon a gentle kiss (lick actually).