|My lovely oldest daughter on the day before I was replaced by the new man in her life.|
I happened to marry a girl from the Rocky Mountain west, to whom our southern culture seemed a bit foreign. Slowly adapting to having iced tea available for nearly every meal was a tough one for her, but not nearly as difficult as the other common practices of her new husband. One example I recall was the first time I announced that a friend and I were going deer hunting the following morning. For the next five minutes I was subjected to an unanticipated display of exasperation from my lovely bride. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” “How long have you been planning this?” “What am I supposed to do while you’re gone?” “When will you be home?” My answer to this last question was “In the afternoon”, and it brought a totally puzzled and bewildered look to her face. What I had failed to understand was that in Wyoming, going deer hunting often includes pack horses, tents and days spent trekking through the mountains. She thought I was leaving for a week or more. This was one of the many communication obstacles we needed to overcome, and still occasionally do.