What a difference six months can make. In February, I threw a birthday party for my husband and invited a few of his co-workers -- reporters and editors and such -- to help us celebrate.I do like a party, don't you? I especially like it when "a good time is had by all." That's an old Southern expression that means there's plenty to eat and drink, the conversation is lively and everybody goes home before the host nods off or a fight breaks out or the neighbors call the law.This was that kind of party, pretty much. We broke a few glasses, but a good time was surely had by all.I recall in particular talking with a brilliant young writer about half my age who is as much a pleasure to know as her work is to read.Let's call her "Annie." We were standing together in the kitchen eating the cream puffs that I had bought to replace the birthday cake that I had forgotten to order.They were good. Matter of fact, they were so good I decided not to pass them around to the other guests. We would just hoard them all ourselves, Annie and I.We tried. But my husband spotted whipped cream on my nose and made us share. It was his party, what could I say?I looked at Annie and rolled my eyes. She laughed."How do you know," she said, "if someone is the right person to marry?"It was a serious question. She and her boyfriend, who's a sweetheart in the best of ways, had been together long enough to make us hope they'd be together forever. I wanted to say, "Trust me, he's the one."But I didn't say it, of course. Despite my children's claims, I do have my limits. Some things take time to figure out. Annie didn't need me to do it for her.Besides, I was beginning to feel a mite woozy from the cream puffs, and the party was losing its luster. So I said, "Oh, you'll just know."I later used her question as the basis for a column in which I suggested that people get married for all sorts of strange reasons, mainly, we would hope, for love. But they stay together by the grace of God, through good times and bad, in sickness and in health, through hell and even ice-cold water.I also noted from personal experience that it seems to help if they can laugh a lot, especially at themselves.But I most certainly did not tell Annie what she should do. She figured it out all by herself -- with a little help from her boyfriend. They announced their engagement last week, and in true Las Vegas style, found the perfect ring -- at a pawnshop.I wish you could see it. It's an antique, art deco-ish, probably from the '30s. If rings could talk, it would tell quite a story about the kind of love that grows stronger with each passing year, through good times and bad, in sickness and in health, beyond deadlines and rewrites and corrections.That's the kind of ring it is. If we listened closely, it might tell us that it searched long and hard to find Annie's hand, and having found it, it is not about to leave until happily ever after.We celebrated their engagement with a party last weekend, and drank a toast to their happiness with champagne in plastic glasses.My husband grilled the shrimp. Annie and I ate most of the cream puffs. And a good time was had by all."So tell me," I said, "how do you know if someone is the right person to marry?""You can't know for sure," she said, laughing. "You just have to jump into the abyss!"I looked at her ring. I could swear it winked at me.(Sharon Randall can be contacted at P.O. Box 777393, Henderson NV 89077 or at www.sharonrandall.com.)
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How do you know who is the right person to marry?
Submitted by SHNS on Tue, 08/12/2008 - 14:57
Paying taxes unites us. It also divides us. People can pay five and even six times more in state and local taxes than other folks in similar circumstances making similar incomes.
Who's got your number?
In one of the fastest-growing forms of identity theft, crooks are stealing tax refunds by swiping personal information and using it to trick the Internal Revenue Service.




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