Secrets of a Happy Marriage

I learned a great lesson on how to keep a marriage happy from the French master chef Jacques Pepin. He was on the radio on Thanksgiving Day (on NPR, of course—you know me!) talking about cooking for the holiday with Lynne Rosetto Kasper of The Splendid Table. She does a turkey day program every year called Turkey Confidential. Listeners can call in and ask all manner of questions regarding the preparation, cooking and serving of virtually anything you can imagine. It’s quite informative, and lots of fun to listen to if you happen to be alone in the kitchen on that day!

Lynne Rosetto Kasper

 

One of her guests was the aforementioned Jacques Pepin. He’s very amusing and entertaining, and being a Frenchman of the old school, I must say that he is also charming. In the midst of all the discussion of how to choose your ingredients, how to clean, slice, and dice them, how to safely cook them and how to beautifully serve them, Monsieur Pepin slipped in the most valuable nugget of info of the decade. I will share it with you. Perhaps many, many marriages and other relationships can be saved.

Jacques Pepin

Jacques Pepin noted almost offhandedly that there was a point on which he and his wife disagreed. They therefore did what she wanted, as their plan is that when they differ, they do what she wants. At the same time, when they agree on things, they do what he wants. This, he avers, is completely fair. I agree. It just ain’t never gonna happen in this marriage. You recall that I am married to the Center of the Universe, so we handle things differently.

In our marriage, CoTU handles all the small decisions, and I handle all the big decisions. We’re just so lucky that in all these years we’ve never had to make a big decision.

Leaves, Snow, Pollen, Moles: The Four Seasons

Thanksgiving is behind us, and if the first snow has not fallen where you are by the time you read this, it cannot be far behind. We had a flurry here Monday morning. Happily, it didn’t amount to anything. We can only hope that we get the last of the leaves raked up and hauled away before the white stuff really descends.

I think it’s a sign of old age that we have begun to view the change of seasons only as they relate to dreaded household chores.

We have not yet put the leaf rakes and yes, I admit it, power leaf blower into that bleak section of the garage known as ‘off-season storage’, and we’ve begun to bemoan the prospect of winter and snow shoveling. As winter ends, we’ll start fretting about the spring pollen that clogs our screens and fills our deck. Just as that’s clearing away, we’ll be worrying about the lawn and the moles and the carpenter bees. And then, of course, we’re back to the leaves. Perhaps we’re ‘glass half-empty’ kind of people.

Now this would not be such a bad thing, but it does keep us from what life coaches and zen masters call ‘living in the moment’.

Today we should be enjoying the comfy temperatures that enable us to walk the neighborhood in just a sweater, instead of the heavy coats and caps that are soon to come. We should be enjoying the fact that it’s not yet dark at 4:30, as it surely will be a month from now. We should be enjoying the relative beauty of the brilliant reds still clinging to the row of burning bush shrubs that line our driveway, and the wonderful crunch of the dried leaves under our feet on the paths in Babler State Park. Are we doing this? Not so much. We’re changing furnace filters, fighting the woodpeckers opening knots in our cedar siding, and lamenting the impending ice age that is sure to come.

Have we learned nothing from the sixty-something winters we have survived? It’s as if we are embarking on new and unseen territory as fearsome and threatening as the surface of Jupiter. Is this why so many clear-thinking seniors have become ‘snowbirds’ and spend the harsh winter months in the balmy and temperate southern states?

Last year we spent Thanksgiving with our son and daughter-in-law in Washington, D.C. From there we drove to Englewood, Florida at the generous invitation of friends. We spent five delightful days there, but I believe that in some deep-seated way it altered my ability to experience winter.

We ran into some very cold and blustery weather en route home, and it was as if I had no winter coat and gloves. I believe that somehow my body had decided that Florida was right, and anything else was wrong. And while I’m not a Florida person in general, by the time we returned to St. Louis on December 8^th, my body was inexorably altered. I endured last winter with incredible disdain for the cold and damp. Every 30° day felt like a 20° day; twenty felt like ten, and I pretty much felt like Sam McGee who needed to be ‘cremated’ just to defrost. I survived, without Sam McGee’s incineration, but my suffering was intensified by my newfound world view.

This year it will be different. We’re not visiting Florida till February, at which time it should feel like Paradise. By the time we come home, it will be time to put the snow shovels into dry dock and welcome the pollen. Meanwhile, I’m putting on a sweater and going out for a walk.

National Day of Listening

So for once I seem to have heard about a National Day of Something before it actually happened. You may recall that earlier this year I was late to the party when it came to National Coffee Day and National Punctuation Day. I still haven’t recovered from those shocking realizations. And since I didn’t r.s.v.p., I probably won’t be invited next year, either! So you can imagine how delighted I am to have heard of the National Day of Listening in time to participate!


Yes, the National Day of Listening will be Friday, November 26th. That’s the day after Thanksgiving, so if you’re not out shopping, snapping up the bargains you’re seeking for your holiday celebrations, consider taking part. Husbands, typically handicapped in the realm of listening, need not apply.

This project falls under the umbrella of the StoryCorps, whose vignettes you may have heard on NPR. They are usually brief interviews conducted by one family member of another, or the two participants may be friends, neighbors or co-workers. I’ve heard many of them broadcast over the years, and am always affected by them. Some are poignant and touch my heart. Some amaze me with their insights and perspectives. I’ve never turned the radio off in the middle of one.

It may seem obvious, but I mostly end up wishing I could interview one of my parents, or grandparents. Maybe my lovely Aunt Sadie. Someone I’ve lost, and wish I knew more about. Someone who meant the world to me, whose secrets might bring me a clearer understanding of who they were, and what they wanted for me. Or what they would think of how I turned out, how wonderfully my kids turned out, and how fabulous my grandkids are.

I’d like to have that time machine, but I know it is not possible. What is possible, though, is taping interviews with my kids (we’ll be in D.C. with the newlyweds) to see what’s in their hearts, that they might not expose in our day-to-day interactions. And maybe we’ll disclose something of ourselves in the process. I envision all of us getting to know each other in a slightly new way. Doesn’t that sound like a good idea? If they have questions for us, and I imagine they can come up with plenty—after all they are both former newspaper reporters—perhaps one day they won’t have the same regrets I have. Sure, they’ll have some regrets—who doesn’t? But at least they’ll be different, and possibly less substantial.

Interviews done for this project can be uploaded to the “Wall of Listening” at the StoryCorps website www.nationaldayoflistening.org. You can also upload them to Facebook, or post them on your own site to share with your loved ones.

So on November 26th, think about taking out a tape recorder, and asking some questions of someone important to you. And keep it nice—this post-Thanksgiving experience should be about positive things, and possibly difficult things, but not anything likely to cause hurt feelings, or a rift between people. I’m just saying… And then think about uploading that interview (or those interviews) to the Wall of Listening. You may touch hearts all over the world.

By listening closely to one another, we can help illuminate the true character of this nation reminding us all just how precious each day can be and how great it is to be alive.



Dave Isay
Founder & President, StoryCorps

Thanksgiving Aura

What a week it's been-- marathon cooking and cleaning getting ready for the big celebration(s)! In addition to the regular responsibilities of daily life, prepping for one of the most labor intensive holidays of the year really ate up my week! I never expected to be absent for so long, but sometimes circumstances take over your life... in a good way, though.



So after sharing Thanksgiving Day itself with my brother and sister-in-law at their house, with all of her family included, we went to CoTU's sister and brother-in-law's house for the evening meal and celebration! A grand time was had by all. --and yet...



Because our son, daughter-in-law and granddaughter were coming in from Boston Saturday, we had planned another Thanksgiving at OUR house for Saturday night! So we had 14 adults and two kidlets, and as they say-- hilarity ensued. And I don't have to tell you, we had enough food for 300 of our closest friends.



Following are the remarks I made when we gathered everyone from the 87-year old in-laws to the 20-month old littlest one:



Since in the past I have been met with resistance when I ask everyone to share what they are thankful for I’ll make one of my own cheesy little speeches.


Let me just say that:


I’m thankful to still be here


I’m thankful to know that my husband loves me very much (and sometimes says so)


I’m grateful to have a gathering like this one, of family that can come together and share a special day (or within 48 hours of one)


I’m grateful for Dierberg’s (my wonderful local supermarket!) and America’s Test Kitchen


I’m thankful to have a dishwasher and a self-cleaning oven


I’m grateful to still have all my body parts, unlike so many of my dear, sweet friends


I’m thankful that my husband’s family has so completely embraced me and made me part of them


I’m thankful that two of our four kids could be here, with the special partners they brought into our lives (after all, in baseball two out of four is an awesome batting average)


I’m thankful for a beautiful little granddaughter who is with us (!)


I’m grateful that my brother and sister-in-law are here to help me hold up the Rubin end of the rope (Not THAT rope!)


And I’m thankful –and deliriously happy—to announce that our son Rob is going to marry the lovely and wonderful Jessica on May 23, 2010!


And then we ate ourselves into oblivion, and if you like, I'll post the link to the best apple pie recipe I've ever made! But I'm warning you-- it contains five pounds of apples! O. M. G. To die for! The pumpkin pie was equally awesome, and both owe their fabulosity to America's Test Kitchen! Did I mention their recipe for the world's best stuffing??? I should have!

Let Us Give Thanks

Here we are at the start of Thanksgiving week, with only three workdays before the holiday. Of course, if you’re hosting Thanksgiving dinner, every day this week is a work day.

Work, as in plan the menu, make the grocery list, set up a timeline for all the chores so that you can use your best planning skills to assure that everything is done and ready to go when the big day arrives.

There was a time when I just made Thanksgiving happen without the timeline. I shopped, I chopped, and I cooked. Everything was done on time: the house was clean, the food was yummy, and a good time was had by all. Well, okay, not Uncle Billy, but he hasn’t been the same since he left the carnival… But I digress.

So as I was saying, I used to get it all done, while working full time, raising a couple of kids, and trying (against all odds) to domesticate my husband. What happened? I’m either not as good at multi-tasking as I used to be, or I just have more time to worry about getting it right, so I do. Worry, that is.

Now, unless I review each recipe and create a sub-divided and categorized grocery list, I worry about not having all the ingredients I need here in the house. (Hmm… let’s see, four eggs for the stuffing, two for each pumpkin pie…) Unless I figure out how much oven time each dish needs, and create an actual schedule for Oven Availability, I’m semi-frantic about the timing, and having everything done on time. I’m serious. If anybody needs to borrow my oven this week, I’m going to have to consult the grid I created. Picture it: My neighbor comes to the door and says, “Hi, my oven’s on the fritz—can I bake these brownies over here?” I pick up my clipboard, and a super-fine Sharpie, and say, “Gosh, Holls, looks like I could squeeze you in between the broccoli cheese casserole and the deep-dish apple pie. How’s 2:37 work for you?”

Last year, I took the advice of the experts and baked my pies early in the week and froze them. They were really wonderful, and it sure took some of the pressure off Thanksgiving day. This year I’m taking that to a whole new level. This year, not only am I baking the pies early, I’m making the stuffing ahead, too, since it always seems to taste better the day after Thanksgiving anyway! (Shh—don’t tell the stuffing—I’m tricking it into thinking Wednesday is actually Thanksgiving. Bwah-ha-ha!) I’m even blanching the green beans a day ahead, but then I always was a rebel.

I’ll have my two coffeemakers set up and ready to go, my table set, fresh towels, fresh flowers and fresh Uncle George all present and accounted for. I’m making three appetizers which (you’re way ahead of me on this one, aren’t you?) do not require the use of the oven! Great stuff like my famous black bean salsa dip with chips, BLT roll-ups and a cheese ball with crackers. This keeps the riff-raff spread throughout a couple of rooms, as they forage while waiting for dinner to be served.

It’s all a well-choreographed dance in three acts: snacking, gorging and why-did-you-let-me-eat-so-much.

Thanksgiving’s always been one of my favorite holidays. It’s inclusive of everyone and it reminds us of how much we have to be grateful for. When we all finally sit down at the dinner table, I make some cheesy little statement about how fortunate we all are. Humble murmurs echoing the sentiment are heard. That’s it. No gifts, no competition, no bills. Just family, food and lots of talking and laughter. Thank God for the laughter.

But when the last slice of pie has been eaten, and the plates are stacked in the sink, I will have another reason to be thankful: I don’t have to do this again for another year.