MONROE - "No, not this box - this is the stuff to send to the grandkids, go get the other box," she said.
"You see how she talks to me. I just say, "Yes dear, yes dear," he said.
Romance isn't always about flowers and fine wine, though George Schutte does vint his own wine that he keeps in his root cellar. Loving another person means doing the dishes when they can't. It means folding the laundry, mopping the floor, cooking and, yes, it means a kiss.
"He kisses me every night before bed," Algreta Schutte said.
"And every morning," George Schutte said.
"You can go to bed mad, but don't forget who you love at night," he said.
"My grandsons give kisses. My son Dan, as soon as he comes in the house, I get a kiss," she said.
The Schuttes have been married for 66, going on 67, years. They have 17 children together, five girls and 12 boys. The youngest, more than 40 years old, is always referred to as Baby Schutte. They have 51 grandchildren, 53 great-grandchildren, and one great-great-grandchild.
Their home sits adjacent to the house where they reared their children. Their house is filled with all manner of accouterments: paintings, glossy painted plates, an old spoon rack, strong wood furniture. But it's not messy, just filled. The family photos are all framed and line the hall to the Schuttes' bedroom. George pointed to one and said, "that's all the in-laws and outlaws." He is full of witty little jokes and spreads them around liberally.
He hardly hunches over for an 87-year-old man. His hair grows out in spotty white thatches on his head and jumps out unexpectedly, almost like the sound effects he is always making: "Phbbbt," "vroom," "kaboom," "kroww," "womp," "room, room," he says. When he tells a story he doesn't talk with his hands, he builds a soundscape for his listener.
Algreta sits quietly and doesn't say much, maybe because she can't hear as well. She's proud of the photos of her children. "Here look at this, one of the girls and me in the gazebo," she said. Her walker is always by her side, almost as much as George is. For all his flippancy, it's obvious how much he cares. She notices, but in her own silent way. Her eyes narrow or roll at his jests but only briefly.
The Schuttes met in Colorado and married when George was 20 and Algreta just 17. "We had to drag her folks down to make it legal," George said.
"Phhbbt, her folks did not like me," he said.
"Not folks - Mom didn't like you," Algreta said. "You and Dad liked to go down and have beers together."
"No, I just watched him drink beers," George said. "I was a good boy; I just sat around and read the Bible all day."
They moved away from Colorado to Madison then to Washington, then to Monroe so George could work in the bakery at the new Piggly Wiggly.
"I worked my buns off for $27.50 a week," he said, not even realizing the pun he made.
Every morning after their prayers, they play games. They play cribbage, Skip-Bo or gin but George hates being indoors for all this cold weather. They would both rather play in the gazebo.
George said he is very proud of the gazebo. When asked what was the most romantic thing he's ever done, Algreta pauses for a beat before nodding outside towards the gazebo.
It doesn't match the typical Valentine's Day, over-the-top gesture of undying love, but it is just that. They both know they care about each other and prove it daily. George does all the cooking and cleaning, and Algreta raised the children. Special treatment can be simple.
"I wouldn't have what we have today if it weren't for her," George said. "She could squeeze a nickel until the buffalo cried. She is the greatest lady in the world, bar none."
"You see how she talks to me. I just say, "Yes dear, yes dear," he said.
Romance isn't always about flowers and fine wine, though George Schutte does vint his own wine that he keeps in his root cellar. Loving another person means doing the dishes when they can't. It means folding the laundry, mopping the floor, cooking and, yes, it means a kiss.
"He kisses me every night before bed," Algreta Schutte said.
"And every morning," George Schutte said.
"You can go to bed mad, but don't forget who you love at night," he said.
"My grandsons give kisses. My son Dan, as soon as he comes in the house, I get a kiss," she said.
The Schuttes have been married for 66, going on 67, years. They have 17 children together, five girls and 12 boys. The youngest, more than 40 years old, is always referred to as Baby Schutte. They have 51 grandchildren, 53 great-grandchildren, and one great-great-grandchild.
Their home sits adjacent to the house where they reared their children. Their house is filled with all manner of accouterments: paintings, glossy painted plates, an old spoon rack, strong wood furniture. But it's not messy, just filled. The family photos are all framed and line the hall to the Schuttes' bedroom. George pointed to one and said, "that's all the in-laws and outlaws." He is full of witty little jokes and spreads them around liberally.
He hardly hunches over for an 87-year-old man. His hair grows out in spotty white thatches on his head and jumps out unexpectedly, almost like the sound effects he is always making: "Phbbbt," "vroom," "kaboom," "kroww," "womp," "room, room," he says. When he tells a story he doesn't talk with his hands, he builds a soundscape for his listener.
Algreta sits quietly and doesn't say much, maybe because she can't hear as well. She's proud of the photos of her children. "Here look at this, one of the girls and me in the gazebo," she said. Her walker is always by her side, almost as much as George is. For all his flippancy, it's obvious how much he cares. She notices, but in her own silent way. Her eyes narrow or roll at his jests but only briefly.
The Schuttes met in Colorado and married when George was 20 and Algreta just 17. "We had to drag her folks down to make it legal," George said.
"Phhbbt, her folks did not like me," he said.
"Not folks - Mom didn't like you," Algreta said. "You and Dad liked to go down and have beers together."
"No, I just watched him drink beers," George said. "I was a good boy; I just sat around and read the Bible all day."
They moved away from Colorado to Madison then to Washington, then to Monroe so George could work in the bakery at the new Piggly Wiggly.
"I worked my buns off for $27.50 a week," he said, not even realizing the pun he made.
Every morning after their prayers, they play games. They play cribbage, Skip-Bo or gin but George hates being indoors for all this cold weather. They would both rather play in the gazebo.
George said he is very proud of the gazebo. When asked what was the most romantic thing he's ever done, Algreta pauses for a beat before nodding outside towards the gazebo.
It doesn't match the typical Valentine's Day, over-the-top gesture of undying love, but it is just that. They both know they care about each other and prove it daily. George does all the cooking and cleaning, and Algreta raised the children. Special treatment can be simple.
"I wouldn't have what we have today if it weren't for her," George said. "She could squeeze a nickel until the buffalo cried. She is the greatest lady in the world, bar none."