Friday is the day I give something away. I make something to help me create an altared space in my life and offer you the opportunity to find an altared space in yours.
Today I’m giving away a shovel and a spatula. There have been a lot of role reversals in my home in recent years and it has made for many pathways of increased love.
I’m carrying the shovel. My husband is wielding a mighty delicious spatula over some scrumptious entrées. I married a carpenter, so it can’t be super surprising that when it came time to fix the broken door, or retile the bathroom, my husband took on those jobs.
My husband married a girl who largely used food to create great parties and create memorable dates. Without an actual agreement, our twenty-plus-year-marriage simply fell into a rhythm: I cooked, he fixed.
I don’t think there’s anything wrong with having roles in a marriage. It helps to know what your job is and it keeps things clear. The trouble for me arose when we both got pretty darn tired of our respective employments.
We are both obnoxiously appreciative people. Never have we taken the other for granted. But, while my husband never expected me to fix dinner, neither was he cooking something to feed us. Likewise, the bathroom simply sat un-tiled for that year and a half while he didn’t get around to it.
No longer fresh around our house, things just felt stale. So when the trees needed attention, I began to attend. When the plumbing went out, I began to take a look.
And then I finally realized I was actually tired and my husband saw that I was tired…and grumpy…and he said, “What can I do for you?” The words simply tumbled out of my mouth.
“Feed me.” I said. Wise words.
My husband approaches cooking like he approaches everything else: one big adventure. So we eat chilies that just about scald our tongues off (and I have to get a bowl of Cheerios to recover). Doro Wat is for dinner and we travel to India while we sup. Sometimes the food is not tasty. Sometimes it’s delicious, but I always feel fed. I always feel the love he pours in with his spatula.
In the front of our house I’ve built a path out of bricks. My builder husband warned me before I began, “This is a pretty difficult undertaking. I wouldn’t want to do it.” I was undeterred. I like rocks. Bricks are like rocks. I like hard manual labor. But he was right. My path wobbles.
I learned a lot about what my husband has done all his life and I have a huge respect for him, a respect that can only come from actually doing a person’s job. I can taste that he feels the same.
If you would like to have this shovel and spatula at your home, please enter my Friday giveaway by leaving a comment here or by sending me something for my garden. If you are shy about commenting, you can also email me at rbcamullen at hotmail dot com. (funny formatting helps with spam). Entries are due by Thursday.