Bill and Ann Coogler
I love to write, but I hate to cook. My husband, Bill, is very patient about this, but also, very thin. I can make a big cooking show at Thanksgiving and Christmas, but my kids know that after that Bill exists on my eraser shavings. He is patient with the closed door to my office that says, ‘creative minds are seldom tidy.’ He listens to less than stellar writings and grins patiently before he falls fast asleep over them. This writer is less than organized and I married a military man whose disciplined, organizational skills are legendary.
Somehow we manage to come together between paragraphs to dance, swim, and travel. On the twenty-sixth of each month Bill brings me flowers to celebrate our ‘month-a-versary.’ July 26th we’ll commemorate our thirteenth anniversary. We began our marriage as ‘tollmates’, he the accountant who handled my tax preparation. Since I have been crippled by a math phobia since first grade, Bill worked diligently to be sure my numbers were correct. His finesse at working with math calculations astounds me.
With God’s help, we have made this unlikely combination work. Bound by writing paper and ledgers it is a match made in heaven.