My husband closely examines the rock from a shaft core drilling that is on display at the North Star Powerhouse which has been converted into a Mining Museum in Grass Valley. The historic mining artifacts are as rich as the ore bodies they represent from days gone by.
My new writing project has completely immersed me in the history of mining. Though, to be perfectly honest, I have been involved in the mining world since I married my hubby. Yesterday, the man who spends hours sharing his story with me asked me if I was from a mining family. This made me pause because technically I am from an agrarian family; however, later I realized that I have officially spent as much time in the world of mining as I did growing up as a child on the farm.
Ron is a miner, and that makes us a mining family. Last night, my husband finally made it home after a long day at work filled with complications...particularly with a substation that had a short and well...it was bad, really bad. Anyway, he sat at the kitchen table with me for two hours helping me edit my writing. I need his perspective to ensure authenticity in my writing. I realize that only a small population would recognize most of my subtle errors, but I really strive for accuracy.
In a few weeks we will celebrate 19 years together, and I am assured of his love because he drags me around the countryside so I can do research, he waits patiently as I explore the used bookstore (well, at least he waits), and he endures hours of writing which translates into listening time for him. I am not sure tropical vacations would leave me as assured of his love.
Do I ever endure.....I love you too.
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