Dancing in Raleigh Ships in Savannah

Ship passing by our balcony Sunday afternoon. 

Grandparents on the dance floor at the wedding reception Saturday evening. 

All married couples summoned to the dance floor. Susanna took pictures. Couples left the floor as their length of marriage was called. One year. Two years. Five years. Ten years. Fifteen years. Twenty years. Twenty five years. Thirty years. Thirty five years. Forty years. Forty five years. Fifty years. Fifty one years. Fifty two years. Fifty three years. At fifty four years, Linda and I sat down. The only other couple left on the floor, Lauren’s aunt Patty and uncle Joe, had been married fifty eight years. 

Highlight of our trip was a  Thursday afternoon outing to a lake near Joe’s house in Winston-Salem so I could learn to sail the two-masted schooner Annie & Jennie. I did well, only put her on the beach once all afternoon, a court martial, public disgrace, end of career offense for the captain of a Navy warship. Thank goodness A&J was a fishing smack. Joe waded out into the muck to push her off into deeper water. After that an incentive for keeping her off the beach was Joe with muddy feet: “Pop, it’s your turn next.” 

Grandson Nick drove down from Michigan for the wedding and we had a good visit. This week we hope to see Ray up from Orlando for Kristen’s high school graduation Friday evening.

Life Is Good.

TW+