Sixth

Today is the sixth anniversary of the day Ten and I left Bend, Oregon in his truck packed with all his belongings.

We drove through gorgeous Montana; spent nine years driving though the state more boring than unseasoned mashed potatoes—yes, that's South Dakota; then Minnesota, Illinois, Pennsylvania and more until we finally hit Massachusetts. 

We moved him from the West Coast to the East Coast where we don't pronounce "r"s at the end of words, the liquor store is referred to as the "packy," Republi/Fascists are scarce and, most importantly, it's where my neuro pit crew resides.

Happy Anniversary to us! I think this calls for cake AND ice cream.