Cutting to the Chase

Today Diane and I mark forty years of marriage. On January 13, 1983 we said our nuptials in our rented condo in Des Moines, Iowa. There were 7 guests. We catered our own wedding feast: Korbel Brut for an aperitif, a prime rib roast with all the timings accompanied by BV Private Reserve cabernet sauvignon, and an ice cream wedding cake from Baskin Robbins. After dinner the male guests adjourned to the living room to watch the second half of the Iowa Hawkeys basketball game.

No newly married couple can really be sure about what the future will bring. Remember my blog about the only serious question? If not you have some homework to do.

The only serious question is “Who knows how to make love stay?” We’re not sure, but our forty years together might mean the answer is ‘We do”.

Not everything has been sweetness and light however. Occasionally there was friction, shouting, and anger. Followed by resolution and reconciliation and re-connection, which can be most enjoyable.

I remember one particularly acerbic dispute. Actually I don’t have a clue what we were arguing about, although it was almost certainly my fault. I know we went to bed, in separate rooms, still quite angry. What followed is about as close as Diane has come to going all “Lorena Bobbit” on her husband.

This happened back when I was still farming. It was summer, and I got out of the house early. I think my job that day was to cut dead wood out of cherry trees. One of those jobs Americans won’t do.

About 9 am I see Diane coming towards me, crying her eyes out, We shared a hug and she bawled “Rich, I did a terrible thing! I’m so sorry!”

OMG, what could it be? Reformat my hard drive? Dump pesticide into the well? Take a hacksaw to my Look 586? “I cut off one of your sprinklers” she sobbed, the tears flowing.

She continued “I was so mad that after you went to bed I got your pruning shears and went into the orchard. I wasn’t going to do anything but I put the shears around the pipe and pulled just a little, and it broke! I’m so sorry!”

I tried to keep from laughing. When a sprinkler breaks on top, say because someone trips on it, the fix is easy. On the other hand, if a tractor of backhoe runs over it, the break occurs about 2 feet down and is a wet muddy mess to repair. Kind of like my flap.

She showed me where it was. I brought my sprinkle fixing supplies bucket, and it took all of 5 minutes to make everything right. Just like we both apologized for being stupid the night before, making everything right between us too.

And for forty years, there has been a lot more of everything being ‘right between us’ than otherwise. So happy anniversary Stoker! My flap will have to modify our plans, but we can make adjustments.