Marriage is a funny thing.  Two people living in two separate worlds trying to figure out what "together" means.  Ken had it all.  A fabulous career flying with an elite group of Marines.  Lots and lots of friends, a Jaguar XK-something or other baby blue convertible, and the woman he had picked out and worked so hard win.

I had no career, no car, and was alone most of the time.  My future was secure--he was certainly going to take care of me, but I didn't know who I was.  And before I could figure it out, he had orders and I was pregnant.

I was reading in Numbers last night about all the rules and commandments that God gave Moses for people to live by.  People do need guidelines or the social structure falls apart.  Marriages fall apart.

Num. 30:16 "These are the statutes, which the Lord commanded Moses, between a man and his wife, between the father and his daughter, being yet a youth in her father's  house."
 
I had been a youth in my father's house, and now I was a youth in my husband's house.  And whatever statutes there were for me to learn, I hadn't learned yet.

Ken had orders to Camp Pendleton, California.  Air Officer for the seventh Regiment.  He was not particularly happy about that.  He wanted to be in a squadron.  Flying.  Now he was assigned to a regiment of "Ground Pounders," helping them learn how to use air support.

We moved into a house on base on top of a hill at the end of nowhere.  It's a good thing that I am a very cheerful kind of person.  It's also good that I'm a "never give up" kind of person.  Because even though I was pretty miserable, the worst was that Ken didn't want to be there either.