Happy Eighteenth Anniversary

We went to Mario's for dinner. My first course was a chilled yellow tomato gazpacho, with a garnish of julienned grilled vegetables. We always evaluate our meals out at new places, and this was pronounced the winner for that course.

When we were in Italy this summer, we tried a new dessert for us: panna cotta. That was on the menu as well. Yep. It was the winner for the dessert course.

We had a pleasant time, enjoying each other's company. There's a deepening of the friendship that happens over many years, an easiness that comes only with time. I can't really explain it, only to say that feels like wearing a favorite piece of clothing, all soft and malleable and familiar from time's effects. . . only a marriage of a lengthening duration is better.

From the 1947 Cookie Recipe Book, published by the California State Grange:

We may live without poetry, music and art,
We may live without conscience, and live without heart;
We may live without friends, we may live without books
But a civilized man cannot live without cooks.

Today I made some Panna Cotta, which is an Italian version of Creme Brulee. And before that, for dinner, we had Panzanella, a tossing-together of roasted vegetables, homemade croutons, chickpeas, with a garlic-infused oil and caper dressing. I also added some grilled chicken, cut up into cubes.

It's nice to have some new recipes for a change.

Celebrating 20 Years

So we started here, some twenty years ago, one of the real successes of our church's Single Adult social program. This was the photo we sent out in our wedding invitations.

Dave's parents are on the left, mine on the right, and our family in the middle. What a journey we started, all of us, all together, the parents flanking us, the wedding covenants in the temple giving us a sure start and we pushed on into the newness of it all: Dave, me, Chad, Matthew (on his tiptoes so he could be taller than Chad), Barbara (one of my junior bridesmaids that day) and Peter, who held my hand in every photo but one. And in that one, he's scowling fiercely.

We've talked about our marriage a lot this past week--I guess I should say I've brought it up a lot on our walks--and we shake our heads at our dumb luck at having made this enterprise get off the runway and sail into the air.

We're thicker through the middle, one of us is thinner through the hairline, we both have more wrinkles, and sag a little more through the shoulders, but the children have grown and married and have brought a new generation for us to love in our eight grandchildren.

To provide evidence that we're celebrating our twentieth, I'll be at an orientation meeting where I teach and Dave will be honing his talk to give next week at a conference. Romance? We've got it. In fact we've postponed celebrating our Big Day until next week, when he'll take me out to dinner in one of my favorite places: Pienza, Italy. I'll splurge and order the Panna Cotta (we'll share) and then we'll walk along the city wall, looking over in the countryside. Maybe we'll hold hands, occasionally I'll steal a kiss from my handsome fellow by my side, and then, like any good middle-aged couple, we'll turn in by 10 p.m.

Happy Twentieth Anniversary, Dave. I love you.