Valentine’s Day, 1977. Chico, CA. We’d only been dating a few weeks, but somehow I knew he was a keeper. And you know, sometimes I’m right. Happy Valentine’s Day Steve (and everyone else). I love you.
P.S. Just to prove how romantic life is after all these years, last night Steve brought me a bouquet of beautiful tulips. The card, which made him start laughing before I even opened it (which is always a sign), showed two old dogs on the front. The inside said “True love means never having to say ‘who farted?’ “