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Yesterday was our first anniversary as husband and wife. It doesn’t feel like a whole year has gone by, so it sort of sneaked up me. Of course, being the useless spouse that I am, I utterly failed at finding any kind of meaningful gift… which resulted my not having any gift. So I wrote him a love letter, and opened up the page in my diary from the day of the wedding (Perfect Husband and I have an agreement that he can read my diary entries after they are at least one year old) and left both on his computer chair. I knew he’d go to his computer first thing when he got up. He always does. I also loaded up Open Office on his computer and wrote Happy Anniversary, and a promise that he would get lucky, on the screen in big  red letters.

He, on the other hand, took me on a two hour long horseback trail ride up in the mountains. He had never been on a horse before and has always steadfastly refused to try, citing a belief that he would somehow break the horse. I rode English a lot when I was a kid, but I haven’t been on a horse in years. I talk a lot about wanting to ride again, and planning to own a Clydesdale when I’m filthy rich. So this was his gift to me – by getting on the back of a large, strange animal, and clinging to it for two whole hours while I grinned like a loon, he demonstrated his love for me… and somehow did it all in good humour.

It probably didn’t help him that I kept kicking my own horse into a trot, which made his massive plodding steed follow suit. By the time the ride was over, he was moaning and massaging his legs. He took three muscle relaxants when we got home. I was sore too, but my horse hadn’t been as wide as his.

So basically, for his first anniversary, Perfect Husband ended up with no gifts, a long car ride, two long hours straddling a massive beast while it jostled him around, and pain in his lower extremities… all for the love of me.

When we got home we popped some champagne and toasted our first year as a married couple, then feasted on carbs together.It was a really nice anniversary. Well, for me, anyway.  Perfect Husband, on the other hand, is worried that he might have pulled his groin.

His birthday’s next month. I’ll definitely do better then. Besides, we have, like, 49 more of these things to go. Or, if you listen to him, 46 because apparently he doesn’t plan on living past age 80, lest he risk outliving me. Ha. We’ll see about that.