Not really;) We took a break from all of the projects we have to do, and Dan spoiled me rotten for the weekend, at the historic Broadmoor Resort & Hotel in Colorado Springs. It is just exquisite and the perfect place to celebrate a birthday, I might add. We left on Saturday morning amidst the usual flurry of activity that it takes for both of us to get out of the house at the same time. My aunt, our very own "Mary Poppins," was on hand to treat the kids to their own special weekend, so when Dan and I finally drove off, it was without a concern and nary a backward glance. For the next day and a half we relaxed and took in the beautiful scenery, strolled the grounds, enjoyed several of the wonderful restaurants, and just basked in the luxury of both the surroundings and having so many hours of uninterrupted time together. It does a marriage good. I think that by spending a chunk of time together once or twice a year, we've been able to reconnect so that when we're back at home, we look forward to "together time" and will find it in little ways. Like sharing a glass of wine before dinner, or even a trip to Home Depot on a Saturday. After dinner last night, we took a walk around the lake and then found a spot to sit out on the patio that overlooks the lake. Dan had a glass of wine and I sipped some Bailey's and coffee. The moon's reflection shimmered on the lake. The outdoor fireplace gave the air a warm, delicious smell of smokey pine. A group gathered in front of the fire talked softly, and occasional laughter rose and fell. I thought of all the campfires we've shared with one another and friends and family. There's something primal and almost spiritual about sharing a campfire with the people you love most in the whole world. This morning we enjoyed the luxury of our elegant room. Dan finished a book and I was looking out at the view of the lake when some movements on the far side caught my eye. At the small playground, tucked behind the pool, there were two children swinging on the swing set. They were both going along at their own rhythm, pumping their legs and reaching for the sky, and eventually, their swinging to and fro became even with one another. It was the game we used to play as kids. If you're swinging at the same tempo and side-by-side the next person, we'd call out, "We're married!" As a child I never knew how true the analogy would become. As a couple we're more often that not busy with our own things, both working hard and passing each other like ships in the night. Then, sometimes by chance, but more and more because we know we can make it happen if we work at it, one of us will slow, the other may have to speed up or put in a bit of effort, and eventually we're a matched set again, moving through life together. That's marriage.