Raisins and salt

My dream is to work out in the garden, pushing the edge of dusk, happy to be rearranging the earth and its bounty until it’s too dark to see, while inside my house someone is making dinner. Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to be? Division of labor. You can have both: late hours in the garden, AND homemade dinner.

That’s not the way it works when you are single. Any late gardening means dinner will be late, too – and it will probably be scrambled eggs or grilled cheese or something equally quick and easy. Which is fine – but wow, wouldn’t it be amazing to come in, wash the mud from my hands, and sit down to a real meal that someone else has made? Or how about this: come home from work at the end of a long weekday and have dinner ready? I’m not talking about being met at the door with a martini and my house slippers – just being met at the door by cooking smells and knowing that dinner is already underway.

This happens now.

It is one of the many perks of being (newly) married.

And there are more.

Just today I called my husband (don’t you love the sound of that?!?!) and asked him to pick up raisins and salt. And he will. I don’t have to make a special trip to the co-op, or put it on my list for later, or go without raisins in my oatmeal tomorrow morning, because there is another person who is my partner here, and we work together to be sure the pantry is stocked.

Also. He sends me copies of the bills he’s paid. He is paying the bills. We share costs, but the act of sending the money in, on time, every month, is no longer my sole responsibility.

Liberation can mean a lot of things: besides being free to do as you please, it frequently means doing everything yourself. But it can also mean giving some of that responsibility up to someone else. It can mean raisins and salt that you didn’t have to run out and buy yourself.
Thank you, my honey.