Stef in 1980, in Holland.

Yes, it’s my husband’s birthday. He’s one year older, one year better (as I like to think) and one year younger (as Andrea’s brother Pablo says. Smooches to Pablo!
We met at the polo club. I watched him play the first weekend, but didn’t get to meet him. He broke his arm the next week, and so I got talk to him. Well, sort of talk. My French was limited to ‘left, right, and fall down’. His English was what he’d picked up in highschool. (Actually not so bad. And we didn’t fight for YEARS – I’d start shouting in English, and he’d look at me and say, Doing de doing de doing.” His imitation of a mad American. )
My sister was visiting me, so she was out chaperon for about a month. Stef told me later he tried everything to ditch the sister – but nothing worked, lol. Finally, in desperation, he asked me to visit him in Deauville where he was playing polo. He got his cousin Florence to drive me. I brought my friend with me (Andie MacDowell), and we spent three weeks in Deauville, in freezing cold weather. August in Deauville, and we didn’t take off our jackets!

We’ve been together since 1979, and I’m still crazy about my guy.
Happy Birthday Stef!

Andie, Stef, and me at the polo field in Deauville. It was cold that month!

Stef and me in Florida in 1980.

Stef with our daughter at the cross country course this year.