On Feb. 18 the Sun published its wedding issue and I hope you all had a chance to read it. The articles were wonderful, and the Sun staff wrote a terrific piece about weddings from various cultures. Brenna Swanston included the traditions observed in Jewish weddings, and I shared photos and memories of my wedding to my lovely Britisher Yiddisher!
This month we celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary. We met 11 years ago on May 1 at a church potluck held each month for singles at New Life Community Church. He was there with a friend who attended that church. I was there because Mom made me go.
“You need to get out and socialize, so put on a nice outfit and go mingle a little,” she insisted.
So I did. The tables were all packed, but I finally found a single chair at one and sat down. Then I heard it. A rich, lilting British-accented voice said, “Hello! How are you? My name is Ian.”
We spoke of everything from art to soccer to London. I asked what a nice Jewish boy like him was doing there and he said, “The same thing a nice Catholic girl like you is, love!” We have been together ever since.
That Dec. 1 he proposed to me during lunch at the Quarterdeck restaurant in Pismo Beach. He loves their fish and chips, and ever since we always try to sit in the same booth.
I have learned that marriages are living things that need to be cultivated for growth. They require hard work and maintenance. This is made clearer by the kinds of traditional gifts we share on each anniversary.
The first year anniversary is celebrated with gifts of paper—a good choice since money is made of paper and most newlyweds need money!
Second anniversary gifts include cotton, also a good choice since American money is comprised of paper and cotton. This is especially useful if children are now part of the family union.
Third anniversary gifts are leather. By this time a little spice in the boudoir may be necessary so, yes, leather gifts can help—if you get my meaning! By the fifth anniversary couples may have settled in and wood makes a nice gift. There’s nothing like burning some for a nice warm fire to cuddle by.
By the sixth anniversary things may become complacent, so be careful! Traditional gifts are made of iron and, if you hubbies haven’t been paying attention and buy your wives an iron for this anniversary, then you may receive a nine-iron—to the head!
The conventional seventh anniversary gift is wool, which is perhaps why this anniversary is attributed with the Seven-Year-Itch. Ever wear wool?
I could hardly wait for year 10’s traditional anniversary gift. Are you ready? It’s tin. That’s right, the stuff used to make the cans your wedding party strung onto the bumper of your car. Know what else is made of tin? Buckets. So when I eventually kick the can or the bucket, I’ll still be stuck with tin! Oh, where is a tin woodsman when you really need one?
I was hoping this year had some sort of jewel or precious metal associated with it. But, no, it’s tin, although aluminum can be substituted. Great. My hopes for gemstones have been foiled again!
To my credit, I have never fed my family TV dinners, once served up in sectional foil trays. I have bought tins of baked beans, my Brit’s favorite thing to heat and eat over toast. Whenever he indulges in this culinary experience nature takes it course and our grandson—the Briteen—and I are subjected to an impromptu gastric debate and re-butt-al of sound and fury. This is one of those times when love means really having to say you’re sorry!
A good marriage involves compromises by both spouses. My mother and her husband, Joe, had a good marriage. I asked her once how they made it work so well. Without batting an eye she said, “You need to know your spouse’s needs and Joe knows he needs to keep his mouth shut in the morning until I’ve had my first cup of coffee.”
Joe was a sweet, loving, and compassionate man. Several years ago he took Mom to Las Vegas. He asked her to ride the High Roller rollercoaster ride with him. She agreed but then found out how it got its name. It circled the top of the tower of the Stratosphere Hotel, 909 feet above Las Vegas, and offered incredible views of the strip. But you had to provide your own Depends undergarments.
Joe was 70 then and Mom was, well, younger. (If I reveal her age she’ll cut me from the will!) I asked whatever possessed him to suggest it and what possessed her to go through with it, and she said, “Joe had ‘No Fear’ stamped on his forehead. He was always game for anything. I must have been nuts but I went with him because I loved him.”
“So how was it?” I asked. “That thing was so high up I thought I was going to see God!” she replied. “He had his arm around me and kept yelling, ‘Open your eyes, Honey, and see what you’re missing!’ All I could do was pray and thought, when I get off this thing if I can still stand up I’m going to kick his ass!”
My spouse is not game for anything, except the beautiful game of soccer. So when his back was bothering him, I decided to take him to the Sycamore Mineral Springs to soak up the warm mineral waters there. I love their Oasis pool that looks like a secret, hidden cove with warm waterfalls and lush landscaping that allows you to relax in nature au natural.
My stuffy Brit reluctantly agreed but insisted he was wearing his bathing suit! So I packed our towels and his suit in a tote and off we went. He was awestruck by the pool and preceded to undress, then asked, “Where’s my suit?”
“I have it here, sweetheart. Get your pants off.”
“But I’ll be naked!” he uttered in shock. “Only for a minute,” I lied.
He quickly ditched his trousers and lunged for his suit, which I dangled enticingly, then threw into the pool. What followed was so romantic. He danced around a moment, hands held over his twig and berries, then plunged into the pool where I was waiting. I tossed his suit out of the pool and said, “Come here, handsome.”
He looked frantically around, realized no one could see us, and muttered “What a right mare you are!” We cozied up, enjoying the gorgeous setting and warm water, my gallant stallion and his right mare! I asked, “Are you angry with me?”
His answer was simple. “Neigh, sweetheart!”
Ariel Waterman has learned that stocks in tin mining are rising. Send her some shares via her editor, Shelly Cone, at scone@santamariasun.com.
This article appears in Mar 3-10, 2016.