45 years of marriage takes ‘work’

Since we last talked, an important milestone has been reached. The spouse and I chalked up 45 years of marriage. After this length of time in double harness, our celebrations commemorating the day have become somewhat uneventful. The highlight of the day for the spouse was making great strides toward repairing the livestock trailer that will be hauling the grandkids’ pigs and goats to the Fair next week. I canned beans and dill pickles. We did go out for dinner after our chores were done, but hurried home afterward to fall asleep in our respective chairs.

We have a working relationship. I can make him laugh. I can make him cuss. Peaks and valleys, that’s just life. Now that we’re getting older, we do have moments when we have raised our voices to one another, but that’s only because we’re both getting deaf as a board. In the summer when the windows are open, the neighbors don’t have to turn on the 6 o’clock news, they can hear it from our house.

Our ‘working relationship’ has always involved work. Last spring the spouse thought we needed to enlarge the garden. For some reason, I thought a space 50 feet wide by 500 feet long was large enough to feed the masses and have a few fish left over. Apparently I was wrong. He enlarged it with an addition measuring 50 feet by 125 feet. He needed room for a new planting of strawberries.

Let me tell you about our strawberry patch. With the abundant harvest this year, I am livingproof that strawberries are hazardous to your health. There is no shade in a strawberry patch and there are no recliners. My Methodist knee wouldn’t allow me to ‘crawl’ along the rows, so I had to bend over. That maneuver caused me to pinch my belly numerous times causing further discomfort, as if the 85 degree temperature wasn’t enough to contend with. While taking a water break, I glanced upward and to my surprise, six turkey vultures were circling overhead. I’m sure they were thinking…”there’s a juicy one down there!”

The strawberries were very good, and over the course of the season, more than 300 quarts were harvested, but we didn’t pick all of them, we ‘baited’ some friends. Every time we picked we’d drop a few quarts off at their house so they could enjoy the bounty. After a couple times the guilt set in, just as I’d planned. They offered to help pick. I graciously accepted, in fact I even offered to pick them up and drive them to the patch 30 miles away.

We had picked about 3 rows of the 10 row patch when our friends realized there was no way for them to escape. They had no personal means of transportation, just as I’d planned. That seemed to work this year, but my guess is it will be a cold day before they fall for that again.

After that experience, I suggested to the spouse that we only plant things that can be harvested in the upright position. My suggestion was noted, but tabled. Now the beans are being fruitful and multiplying. At least strawberries are red and can be seen easily, green beans are just like pickles, miss one and the evidence is there the next time shouting what a bad picker you are.

Well, we don’t seem to have any friends left, so the spouse has been picking the majority of the harvest and bringing it home for me to process. I feel like a squirrel storing nuts for the winter.

So after being married for 45 years, our ‘working’ relationship is still pretty sound. He puts up with my foolishness and I keep reminding him if he had bought me by the pound when we married, he could have practically doubled his investment by now.

As usual, P.J.

Pj646@centurytel.net

Author of “Uncommon Sense”

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Posted by Pauline Jaquish

Pauline Jaquish is the author of “Uncommon Sense.” You can reach her at Pj646@centurytel.net.

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