PRE-WEDDING

How little did I know that my like would be changed so much by an innocent trip to Alaska!

Before a month had passed, I received not only the flowers but a couple of letters and a phone call from Mark. In one of these letters, Mark announced he was to be in Las Vegas for a computer trade show and broached the idea of coming to see me after it was over.

My first reaction was "Aack! If all the fellows here see me with someone else and think I'm involved, then they'll quit dating me."

But after a momen'ts thought, I decided I was being stupid. If a little thing like that would scare them off, they weren't very interested to start with. And, at my age, it wouldn't hurt to check out a possibility. Therefore, I invited him to come down and we'd go to my parents for Thanksgiving.

Mark called me the evening before he was to leave Alaska. The big news was that Mark and his roommate, Doug, had had an oil fire in the house a few days before. But I'll let Mark tell you about that.

"...About 1 a.m. I was awakened by a yell from my roommate. I had been dreaming about smoggy Los Angeles. When Doug yelled, I reached out and turned on the lamp above my head. It was so smoky that the bulb showed only dimly.

Coughing heavily, we staggered downstairs and out the door. The fire was mostly smoldering oil, not having yet caught any wooden items on fire. We were heating the house with used motor oil; the oil had overflowed and then caught on fire. I grabbed one of the fire extinguishers and put out the fire. Then Doug and I went outside, coughed and hacked for a while. (NOTE: It was about 5 degrees outside that night. Pretty cold to be outside clad only in Fruit of the Loom.)

I finally went back inside, grabbed a shovel and began hauling smoldering gravel outside using the ash bucket. We left the door open to try to let fresh air in and the smoke out. At this point I attempted to go upstairs for clothing but couldn't breathe and had to turn around before reaching the top of the stairs.

The smoke was slowly being replaced by fresh air down by the floor. There was about 2 or 3 feet of fresh air at the ground level. The stove hadn't gone out. We nursed it along trying to stay warm while huddling low enough to breath. About 4 a.m. we finally were able dash upstairs to grab clothing. We took it downstairs to dress, then went back upstairs to punch a window out.

Now that we had clothes on, we decided to go outside where the air was fresh. To our surprise we met several fellows we knew. They told us the neighbors down the creek were being threatened with a flood. They had been moving things while we were huddled by the stove after playing firefighters. There was nothing more that could be done for our house, except wait, so joined the others in rescuing the neighbors' belongings."

That was a pretty eventful day for Mark and Doug. The house was covered with grime. The house get entirely cleaned until some months later--after we were married. And I won't make the claim that the house was ever as clean as it had originally been. It's kind of hard to clean all the grime off beams of a 12 ft. high ceiling.

Later that evening. Mark went to a meeting. After being up most of the night and breathing all that smoke, he was coughing pretty badly. Someone approached him and suggested that he should have stayed home if he was that sick--no one else needed Mark's germs. Mark replied, "To get what I've got, you'd have to get pretty close."

Back to my part of the story, remember? Mark had called me before leaving for his trip. Mark talked mostly about the fire during that phone call. I was concerned because he was still coughing. It sounded dreadful! At least it wasn't catching. He planned to leave at sun-up the next morning.

Mark always believed in driving. It takes time but is much cheaper than flying if one has the time and energy. Also, one has a car available instead of having to rent. It took not one but two trips down the Alaska highway for me to understand the fascination of driving. I've only done it twice but am eager to go again.

I didn't hear from Mark again for several days. Although premonitions aren't something I ordinarily believe in, for some reason I was worried. He called from Las Vegas, his destination. My first question after his hello was "Are you all right?" He replied, "I am now, but I totaled my car in Canada."

November 12th turned out to be a cold snowy day--in Canada, that is. Mark had stopped for a few hours rest and was headed toward Watson Lake. He had been driving in a snowstorm most of the way. The road in that area is a two lane road. Both sides has been plowed but only the on-coming lane had been sanded.

Mark: "It was snowing pretty hard. I caught up with a semi. It was impossible to get around him. I tried pulling up behind, close enough to flash my headlights, hoping the driver would see mm and pull over so I could pass. Driving was pretty hard.

About the fourth time I pulled forward, the truck suddenly put on his break lights. As I tried to stop, I found myself heading toward the rear end of the semi. I was amazed that a truck could stop faster than I could. I decided to turn into the right lane instead of hitting the truck."

Virginia: Then he found out why the truck had hesitated. A snow plow was parked in the right-hand lane; the workers were taking their morning break. Mark hit the snowplow at 55 mph.

The workmen later said they had felt a light bump and came to the rear to see what had happened. They found Mark crawling out of his crumpled car, looking for his glasses. They asked "Are you all right?" He replied, "I will be as soon as I find my glasses." One of the fellows reached inside the car and got Mark's glasses. One of the lenses had come out but Mark managed to pop it back in. After putting them on, he noticed the bubble his head had put in the windshield. The snowplow had virtually no damage; the front bumper of Mark's Colt was just inches from where his feet belonged.

They called ahead for the supervisor to take him into Watson Lake, another 50 miles. Mark went back to package up his things so he would be ready when his ride arrived. Upon reaching the car, Mark realized he was not walking as well as he should be. One leg seemed kind of lame. So he pulled up a pant leg and found a very deep gash underneath his right knee. He asked if they had a first aid kit just as one of the two workers appeared from around the end of the truck with it. The workers looked sick when they saw his leg, so Mark took the first aid kit, pulled back the loose flap of skin, swabbed out the gash and wrapped a bandage around it. It was really strange; with all the damage to his knee, there was not a single cut on the pants. (Note: He wore them until just recently when the zipper broke.)

After the supervisor arrived, Mark's belongings were thrown into the back of the pickup truck. His stuff had been mangled in the wreck. I think his biggest regret was the sandwiches Mrs. Prestone had packed for him were rather the worse for wear. Upon arrival at the hospital, Mark filled out the requisite paperwork and then was taken to x-ray. X-rays were taken of his head and upper body from several angles. The doctors were concerned that he might have fractured his scull when he hit the windshield. Other than bruises, there was no damage to his upper body, proving one and for all that he has a really hard head. (That's what Mark always says when he tells this story.)

Then he went to surgery. The doctor checked out his knee and trimmed the tendons that had been damaged. One was cut all the way through and the other one was only holding together by a thread of tissue. Mark was sitting up watching the surgery being done; he found it very interesting. (Mark and I both have this thing about staying awake so we can see what is being done to us.)

Only a local anestetic was used; Mark and the doctor conversed as the work was being done. Mark's presence of mind to clean his cut was commended; it possibly could have saved his leg. Then Mark and the doctor proceeded to speak of other subjects. The doctor asked what Mark did for a living. The reply was "a computer consultant.~ So Mark was quizzed at length about computers. After the wound was sewn up, the conversation finally got to the important thing--payment for services! The doctor asked what was Mark's billing rate. Mark told him $75 an hour. Then the doctor added up his bill at the usual $150 an hour rate and proceeded to subtract the same amount of time at Mark's rate from the bill. So Mark ended up paying substantially less than he would have otherwise.

Mark was given a prescription for a painkiller. Then the RMCP showed up to question Mark about the accident. He offered to give Mark a ride over to the pharmacy so the prescription could be filled. They transferred all of Mark's "stuff" into the police car. On the way over, the policeman told Mark that there was a Greyhound but that came through twice a week and would be leaving Watson Lake in about two hours if Mark wanted to purchase a ticket and catch a ride on it. They went to the bus stop. Mark was told when he purchased the ticket, that he could ride as far as Dawson Creek and then make the decision whether to take one bus south toward Seattle or the other towards Edmondton without having to repurchase another ticket. The ticket he purchased was from Watson Lake to Seattle.

On the way to the police station to fill out the accident report, they stopped at the wrecking yard where the Colt had been towed. He took several more belongings out of the car and exchanged the remainder of the car for the price of the towing bill on the condition that upon his return, he could remove the stereo. The manager agreed that when Mark returned from his trip, he could remove the radio. After an accident and surgery, Mark was in no shape for mechanical work.

After filling out the police reports, Mark asked if he could use the telephone to make a long distance call to see about plane flights from various cities that the bus was pass through. It seemed that no flights were to be had that would meet his schedule. Before he was finished the police told him he needed to get over to the bus stop. He was given a ride and boarded the bus.

Mark was hurting so much that all he could do is lay on the floor and moan. The pain killers given him by the doctor didn't seem to work. The bus driver wanted to kick Mark off. Fortunately the other passengers disagreed by siding with Mark. This bus trip was quite an eye opener. Evidently the bus running up and down the highway during the wintertime mostly subsisted by passengers who needed a ride because they no longer had a car. All but two of the other people on the bus had been victims of accidents in recent months.

Upon arrival in Dawson Creek, Mark made several more phone calls and found the best flight to Las Vegas would be from Edmonton. Therefore he wanted to change his ticket to go through Edmonton. Despite what he'd previously been told, he was not allowed to change his ticket; he was forced to buy a new one. Since there was to be a day's delay in Edmonton before his flight to Las Vegas, Mark called the minister of the Edmonton congregation of the church to which he belonged. He asked if there was someone who could meet him at the bus station, keep him for a day and then take him to the airport. It was arranged for him to stay with Ray Schwabe, whom he now counts as a friend.

The ride from Dawson Creek to Edmonton, other an interrupted by a few waves of pain, went smoothly. Whenever Mark changed busses, he made sure to supervise the storing of his belongings to make sure they were stashed carefully. One false move, a sleeping bag could have ripped and strewn stuff everywhere.

It was a relief to be met at the bus station by Ray Schwabe, the fellow tasked to pick Mark up, He turned out to be a very friendly fellow. He took Mark home, including insisted upon carrying the luggage Mark had toted thus far. Among Mark's "luggage" was his box of mechanic's tools he always kept in his car (these weighed nearly 150 lbs., a large suitcase, a briefcase, and several sleeping bags which were being used as tote bags for other items that had been in Mark's car.

Ray treated Mark to a nice weekend. Ray had once suffered from gout; as a result he had crutches that he offered to Mark if he would mail them back when he was finished with them. Ray took Mark to church where he ran into several people he had previously known.

By this time the bruises from the accident were real obvious and everyone gave Mark the opportunity to repeat his story over and over again. That evening the church was having an "International" social which included games and dancing. Mark involved himself in both. Of course the dancing was mostly hopping on one leg--but the girls didn't seem to mind. Too bad he was practically engaged to me!

(As I wrote that just now, Mark came along, looked over my shoulder, and said he's glad he was engaged to me.)

To make a long story short, the following morning Ray took Mark to the airport to board the plane. Again he insisted on carrying the luggage. Mark was very grateful; it is difficult to carry a 150 lb. tool box while using crutches (Mark says it's even worse without the crutches.)

For a short while, Mark thought he wasn't to be allowed on the plane. The customs official at the airport noticed that Mark had only a one-way ticket to Las Vegas and decided that Mark should a U.S. citizen.

First, Mark showed his driver's license as identification. But that didn't prove he was a U.S. citizen. Finally, Mark happened to think of an old passport he kept in his suitcase. He never knew why he kept it there; but the suitcase was as good a place as any for it. The custom's official accepted the passport; even though it was expired, he had to be an American citizen to have once had a passport.

Mark was happy when he finally got to Las Vegas. When he arrived, he called a man he'd met on a previous trip. The Dorios were on the point of leaving town but made arrangements when three bachelor friends so Mark would have a place to stay.

Mark's air travels had been on Sunday. Monday morning, Mark registered at Comdex. He was able to get in a little early since he was to be a representative at the Champion Business Systems booth where he was to meet Rusty Fraser.

Throughout the week, he worked the trade show booth with them. People would look at Mark, then come over and ask what had happened.

Mark: "Usually I would jokingly tell them that the last guy hadn't bought our product and we'd have a run-in. Then I'd tell them what happened. It gave us an opportunity to draw in and speak with people who otherwise might not have stopped."

The reason Mark was working in the Champion booth was that this show was the introduction for a Job costing add-on product that Mark had written for the Champion general accounting system. That's something he'd been working to develop for approximately four years previously to this. This was the beginning of national distribution.

By that time Mark had just a little more than enough money to purchase the bus ticket to come see me, and not enough to get home to Alaska. Even if he was able to fly home, he then wouldn't have a car. It's kind of hard to work 30 miles away from your house without transportation. To help him out, Rusty Fraser and Charlie Hagar, the owners of champion, offered him a job as part of their sales staff and a ticket from Las Vegas to Denver. Mark accepted the job and told them he'd see them in Denver, the Monday after the Thanksgiving weekend. Then he made a call to a friend in Denver and asked if he would stay with him.

When Comdex was over, Mark boarded the bus in Las Vegas and headed for East Texas. It was about a 32 hour journey through Phoenix, El Paso, and Dallas (where he changed buses). There would have been a long delay except he switched to a bus headed for Gladewater. Upon arriving in Gladewater, he discovered that shortly another bus would be leaving for the return trip to Dallas. It would go down the old highway right through Big Sandy. They let him off at the corner of my street. He went to the Vita Nook, a health food store owned by a friend of mine. She offered to let him take a bath and called me that he arrived.

I had expected Mark to call me from Tyler so I could go pick him up. I had a meeting to attend at 11:00 a.m. When I returned, the library secretary reported that he hadn't called, but my neighbor had. I called Helen to see what she wanted; she told me that Mark had turned up at her store. I immediately jumped in my car to go see Mark. When I arrived, he was taking a bath. Mrs. Snyder said Mark had wanted to clean up. He hadn't bathed during the two days he had been on the bus.

Mark spent the rest of the day at the Library with me. He did some reading and moved a stack of books for me. I had arranged for Mark to stay with Perry and Nancy Worthen. The time went all too quickly. I worked Wednesday morning; we left for Lubbock early in the afternoon.

Mark and I had so many things to talk about during the long drive. He had a number of stories to tell about his bus trip. The most horrifying one was of an attempted rape which occurred about 50 miles west of Dallas. In the very back of the bus, a woman began to scream. The bus driver pulled over. The man continued attempting what he was doing when the bus driver grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, hauled him to the front and shoved him out the door. It was a desolate area and after making sure that the woman was all right, the driver got back in his seat and drove to the nearest telephone. He told the police where they could pick the fellow up. In such a deserted area, he couldn't have gotten very far.

Mark had brought with him a notebook of essays he had written. It was almost like a journal, putting down some of his inner-most thoughts. Mark suggested I read them; I learned a lot about Mark. In turn, I had written a long letter telling about my self and my view on things. We read to each other most of the trip.

Our weekend was "very heavy." Up to this point, Mark and I hadn't had much time to get to know each other. One week doesn't give major insight into a person's character. However, we knew that we really liked one another. At our age, we didn't want to waste a lot of time playing the dating game.

Therefore, we agreed to spend the weekend going through the notes of a Marriage and Family class I had taken the previous year. We also went through a couple of pre-marriage books that we'd bought. We seemed to be very compatible with similar viewpoints.

Although Mark hadn't yet officially proposed, one evening we discussed the our relationship with my parents. We wanted their approval before we made a decision as to our future. They weren't excited at the prospect of their daughter moving clear across the country (and then some) but wanted me to be happy so they would back up our decision.

Mark asked me to marry him Saturday evening. We were sitting on the couch after my parents had gone to bed. Even though we had been talking marriage for several days, it took me by surprise. I sputtered that I would have to think about it. Mark said, "Let me know when you decide." I said, "You can always ask me again."

And again he did. My parents and I took him to the bus station so he could catch the bus to Denver. Right before he got on the bus, Mark once again popped the question. I couldn't let him get on the bus without my love. I immediately said yes. Under the glare of the bus driver who was anxious to get started, Mark gave me a final kiss.

December was a hard month for me. I'd just gotten engaged to an absent fiance. Most of my acquaintances didn't even know Mark existed. I hadn't made a big thing about Mark. I was pretty sensitive about getting older and being still single. If our relationship didn't work out, I hadn't wanted to be laughed at.

Even though we were now engaged, I didn't tell people about us. I was afraid people would think I was jumping into a relationship with someone I hardly knew. At this time I began casually mentioning Mark. As people learned about Mark, they would gradually realized I was serious about him.

On December 10th, it was announced that our campus would be closing at the end of the school year. Fortunately for me, I had plans so didn't have to worry about looking for a job. I still didn't want to announce my engagement so I fielded questions by saying I was making plans but didn't want to announce them until I was sure.

It's amazing how rumors get started. When the Dean of Students interviewed the library staff as to future plans, he was surprised when I told him about Mark. Someone else had told him that I had said I would like to transfer to our main campus in California. I certainly don't know how that rumor got started--certainly not from me.

Winter break came toward the end of December I headed to Amarillo where my sister lived. Two students from Amarillo and one from Colorado rode with me. We got left about 5 a.m. on that Friday morning so we could get to Amarillo at a reasonable hour. It was a tiring drive, especially after getting up so early. The girls promptly went to sleep and left me to entertain myself during the long, boring miles across Texas.

I found myself dozing a couple of times. Once I suddenly became aware that ahead of me a truck was stopped; I believe he was waiting to make a left turn. Fortunately, there was enough reaction time for me to brake instead of hitting him. That scare woke me up. It also woke the girls as they slid to the floor when I threw on the brakes.

I was to stay with my sister. My parents were also to come. Our church was having a basketball tournament with the numerous congregations of the West Texas area. Mark seized the opportunity to fly down. It was a good way to get better acquainted with my family. Although he had met my parents, he hadn't met my sister, brother-in-law, and the girls.

Mark and I left for Denver Sunday morning. We had the most extraordinary trip. Usually one needs to stop for gas several times during the course of a trip. We made the entire 418 miles to Denver without once stopping for gas. 42 miles to the gallon! Never again has my car duplicated that feat.

Mark and I had a good time that week. Mark arranged for me to stay with some girls he know. We worked out a system of getting around and spending time together. Up to this time, Mark hadn't had a car. Part of the reason for this trip was so we could use my car to hunt for a "new" one for him. Every morning he would pick me up and we'd drive to his work. Then I had the car to use during the day. After picking him up in the evening, we would do something fun or drive around to car lots. One day we rented a couple of video tapes. I fell asleep during the second one--guess I won't ever find out what happened.

We finally hit the jackpot of car shopping on New Year's Day, hoping to find an end-of-the year bargain. Mark had purchased a Gold C coupon book. In it was a $100 off coupon at Tynan's; the notation said to negotiate your best deal, then pull the coupon. In the back row, we found a silver Chevette; the price on the window was $2995. It had a couple of flat tire, a bent bumper, and no emissions gear. Mark got the dealership to air up the tires so he could go on a test drive. He discovered the clutch was bad. (Mark said he never buys a used care that he couldn't find something obviously wrong with it. Having something wrong is usually the reason why the previous owner wants to sell. That allows one to know what needs fixing.)

He was satisfied with the car and Mark started dickering. That's when I got embarrassed. I hadn't grown up trying to get people to lower prices. Mark finally got them down to $875, then pulled the coupon. They weren't very happy about that.

After paying the $775, Mark drove the car over to the apartments where I was staying. (I followed, driving my car.) My hostesses agreed he could leave it their until he could make the repairs. Then we grabbed our towels and swimsuits and headed for Glennwood Springs.

Glennwood Springs is a hot springs west of Denver. It was a lot further than we expected. Like us, lots of others took advantage of the holiday to soak in the heated water. I was a little nervous about Mark seeing me in a bathing suit for the first time. But he seemed to survive. I found out he was hairier than I expected.

After becoming prunes, we headed back to Denver. Mark decided we would stop at Vail for a romantic dinner for two. We munched green colored chips and salsa at the Cafe Colorado in the Doubletree Inn (unfortunately, they don't seem to serve these anymore). Instead of ordering entrees, we tried a couple of the appetizers. It was nice to sit back and relax before facing the reality of work the next day.

The evening before my departure, Mark took me to the Wuthering Heights with yet another coupon. Even though we were getting two entrees for the price of one, they treated us the same as more lavishly spending guests. I was impressed.

I hated to leave Mark but I'd wanted to visit with my parents few days before returning to my job at Big Sandy. It was an uneventful trip. I took the eastern route back to Texas. It's pretty boring out there on the plains; I drove with one eye on the road and another eye on the mystery story I'd brought along. My parents were glad to see my home safely.

One day, while talking to my mother, it dawned on me that I had heard about Mark before actually meeting him. The middle Bolzern son, Ronald, had been a student at the college for which I worked during the 1982-83 school year. In fact, he was a library employ. Before one break, I remember asking him if he planned to go home during the holiday. A conversation about his home and family ensued. He told me his family lived in a house his brother had built.

This really impressed me. And when he told me his brother had his own business, I thought "Why can't I meet a young man like that?" Little did I know I would meet and marry the young man three years later.

The young man and I continued to keep in touch. Now that Mark had a car, he stayed in California a little longer to earn money to cover the gas to get home. Mark worked as a telemarketing salesman at Champion and managed to set a few set sales records for that time period.

Mark had an uneventful trip back except for having to buy his own tires back. He needed a spare plus a replacement for a tire that kept losing air. So he decided to go with his tires that had been new when he started the trip in November. He had to go by the salvage yard to pick up his radio; it had been agreed that he could come back for that. While in Watson Lake, he bought breakfast for the doctor how had patched him up. The policeman who had been so kind to him was no longer stationed in Watson Lake.

It was a relief to hear from Mark that he had arrived in Alaska. He told me the house was filthy and cold. Needless to say, those two factors were a contributing factor to his decision to move into town to stay with some bachelor friends.

IF SHE CAN STAND THIS, I'LL MARRY HER

March was a busy month for Mark. The business had suffered while he was out-of-state. Mark was eager to contact his clients to see what he could do to help now that he had returned.

Mark spent some long hours with his clients. After a couple of days at the house in the country, he got tired of trying to keep warm. In the mornings, it was cold in the house and he would have to get the fire started. The fire would go out during his absence. Then in the evening, he would have to start the fire again to get the house warm enough so we could go to sleep. This got old, pretty fast so Mark jumped at the chance move in with friends.

He bought more food for the cat and left it where she could help herself.

I had a fairly uneventful life during this time. I began making preparations for the wedding. It was fun to get Bridal catelogs and pick out the wedding invitations, plates, cups, etc. I chose a beigish color for our wedding invitations. These came in due time and were addressed. Mark's mother had supplied me with a list of close friends she thought we would send to. Mark also gave me a list of people he wanted to send invitations to.

I was also packing for the exodus to Alaska. Many things were to be shipped. However, there were a number of things that I wanted to keep but didn't feel I could ship up there at the time. For one thing, it's costly to send things. My parents said they could come visit me and take a load to their house for storage.

The college had two evenings every spring which was called Restaurant Night. It was an opportunity to do something different. Half the student body was "assigned" to come. Volunteer from the other half acted as vaiters and waitresses. Faculty members were also invited to attend. When the date for the evening was set, I was in a quandrary. I wasn't in the mood to go alone but, as an engaged woman, I certainly couldn't take a date. In a conversation with my mother, she suggested they come that particular weekend and I could take Daddy. That was a nice idea! However, I didn't want my mother to lose out.

I called Mr. Hal Baird, the minister who had agreed to perform our wedding ceremoney. He had also been invited to attend Restaurant Night but had not yet asked a date. I asked if he would mind making a foursome so my parents could both come. It would also be an opportunity for him to get acquainted with "the parents of the bride." Mr. Baird happily fell in with my plans and even agreed to order Chateau Briand. To choose that for an etre, four people in a group had to order it.

We had a lovely evening. The food was fantastic. I suppose my evening with my parents and Mr. Baird added fuel to the rumour that he and I were to be married. He was going to marry me; that is, perform the ceremony.

No matter how much I liked Mr. Baird, I couldn't allow the rumour to circulate too long. Mark and I agreed that we would announce our engagement in early March. The announcement was made in Big Sandy the week prior to Spring Break. I mailed the invitations to people I wouldn't be seeing and handed the out to people I did see. The following week in Alaska, we passed out the remainder of the invitations.

Back in the fall, Mark and I had talked about my returning to Alaska for a visit during my Spring Break. April got there very quickly. I was eager to see the house in which I was planning "to live the rest of my life." Besides, people were beginning to ask me what items we needed. I didn't know what Mark already owned.

Mark had another motive for having me come to visit. We planned to do some cleaning on the house in preparation for my coming to live. He figured if I could endure cleaning his house, I would be able to survive living in Alaska.

As previously mentioned, Mark's house had had an oil fire in November 1985. Ex-roommate Doug had moved moved out of the house about Thanksgiving time. Another friend who was sick and out of work moved in for a couple of weeks. Naturally he didn't do any cleaning while he was there. During the few days Mark had stayed in the house after his return, he hadn't done any cleaning. Therefore, the house had not been cleaned since November.

I knew Mark had these ulterior motives but I didn't let that worry me. I was more interested in seeing Mark than thinking about house cleaning. My flight went pretty well. I was on a direct flight so didn't have to worry about changing planes.

I arrived late one Friday evening. At the airport after leaving the arrival gate, Mark suddenly pulled a little box from his pocket. It was a ring box! I opened the box and gasped with pleasure. I'd never seen anything so beautiful--and it was mine. The engagement ring was a solitaire. The wedding band/ring guard has a row of rubies and a row of diamonds which sort of encircles the engagement diamond. Mark said the ring had jumped off the shelf saying "Buy me, buy me!"

Mark had arranged for me to stay with an older lady, Mrs. Hobbs, whom he had known for many years. She treated me so well in this bewildering time. Everything was so new. Although I had been in Anchorage before, being there in preparation to move there put a new perspective on the viewpoint.

We got up early Sunday morning and headed to Birchwood. Mrs. Hobbs had let us have some cleaning supplies. It was going to be a long day. On our way to the house, Mark pointed out the landmarks so I could start familiarizing myself with how to get to the house. I recognized the house with the goat.

It was very cold in the house. No fires had been lit since February. The cat greeted us at the door. Mark scurried around gathering materials to build a fire in the stove. While he was busy with that, I climbed the stairs for my first real view of the house. An appalling sight! The place was filthy with stuff scattered all over. Only months afterwards did I tell Mark that I shed a number of tears during the few minutes that passed before he joined me. It was good I had a time to recover and gird my loins for what was to come.

We began to plan our strategy for cleaning. But first we had to pick up a few things just to make ourselves feel better. Mark was upset to find his cherished Othello set scattered over the floor and on the couch. We were relieved to find all the pieces. I opted to clean the kitchen. I wanted to know what equipment I was to marry. Mark said he'd better work on the bedrooms because he knew what to throw away.

Trisha Bruss, the nearest neighbor had agreed to come over to help. She and Mark tackled the bedrooms. Basically, they piled the bed linens into boxes for future washing, vacuumed and dusted. We swept the ceiling of what soot we could get loose. The debris was put in the middle of the rug which we rolled up and hauled out to the truck for dumping. Mark threw away a lot of old computer magazines, including one that was a collector's item. I tried to get him to keep it but he felt it better to get rid of things instead of hanging on to them. We later found out that Mark threw away a number of other things he shouldn't have thrown away.

It took two days to "clean" the house. I basically piled all the dirty dishes on the table and took inventory, re-arranging the shelves that served as cabinets. Since water had to be gotten from the creek and then heated, we didn't use much water. Besides, I was going to have to wash every dish in the house (including the ones that had been stored in the oven). Since no one was going to live in the house for another two months, there was no use washing them only to have them sitting there accumulating more dust.

Mark and I relaxed on Saturday, visiting with some of his friends. We did make a quick trip out to the house to kill time. Mark pulled out his family photo albums and miscellaneous pictures. I had only met one of Mark's brothers before. So it was nice to see pictures of the family and some friends.

I hated to leave Mark, yet in some ways I was ready to go back to wind things up. Besides, I was eager to show off my engagement ring. Maybe now people would believe that Mark really existed!