How long ago it was, 27 years ago, when we stood in the living room of the home to Rev. Lawrence Jackman in Alton, Illinois, in a short ceremony witnesses by his wife, two children and two pets.

We approached the union with apprehension after failed first marriages. Few expected this second try to last. The longest anyone had at the pool at my newspaper was two years max.

Yet here we are, 27 years later, still married, still enjoying each other’s company, still overlooking each other’s faults and still surviving the endless onslaught of challenges.

I’ve had chronic bronchitis for most of my life and it seems to get worse with age. Whenever any kind of respiratory ailment sets in I can count on the bronchitis rearing its ugly head.

Like this time. Just when I thought my strength was returning, a simple cold brought in the bronchitis and I’ve been coughing, wheezing, sniffling and everything else for the past four days.

God, will it ever end?

News that one of my old haunts in Washington, Red Sage, is closing on December 22.

A couple of weeks ago, a woman from Michigan stuck her head in the door of the studio and said she was looking for “local arts and crafts.”

“That’s what we do here,” I told her, pointing to the various studios and galleries in The Jacksonville Center.

“But these galleries could be anywhere,” she said. “I’m looking for something that says ‘Floyd County’ or at least the Blue Ridge Mountains.”

The thermometer reads 35 outside although the sun on the trees makes it look warmer from the inside. Obviously, looks are deceiving.

But I’m not outside, nor am I going out for the next day or two. The doctor orders rest along with the usual lecture about pushing too hard, working too many hours and trying to do too much.