True love is slow cooking and chocolate bars – 32 of 100

Two truly random thoughts and memories.

1. The other week, I opened the centre console in the car to get out my parking pass for our music class and found a chocolate bar – Ritter Sport – filled with crispy caramel bits. Imagine my delight. I’ve not always been a chocolate fanatic, but I am now. Plus, I’m always hungry. I gobbled it all up.

I also thought: Oh Dan left this here. Haha, he bought a chocolate bar, he loves candy. I wish he’d gotten dark chocolate, but oh well, what a great unexpected treat.

Later, on the couch, glasses of red wine in our hands, I said: “I found your chocolate bar in the car.”

And Dan said: “Oh yeah? I’m so glad! I left it there for you.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I knew you’d be disappointed it wasn’t dark chocolate.”

I thought about how when you’re growing into an adult, you feel both desperate and terrified to be known. How when you find those people who really get you, it’s like a light shining through the clouds. Then you marry someone. You come to know them in all of these silly and yet profound ways. And you can have these conversations over space and time — it’s kind of cosmic, isn’t it? Anyway, it felt really warm to be known in that way….And that chocolate bar really was good.

2. A chronicle of this year would be completely out of touch if I didn’t mention our slow cooker.

I’ve never had a slow cooker and didn’t really ever think I needed one. But Dan had enough airmiles for us to get one so we did.

I have fallen in love. It’s a soaring, tortuous love – the way I obsess and plan and want to make sure every ingredient is just so. And as much as I had heard it was just a throw-everything-in and voila! That’s not really how it’s turning out to be. It’s turning out to be me chopping and cooking the aromatics, trimming the meat, and getting broth and coconut milk all over my copy of Slow Cooker Revolution while James has his afternoon nap.

But then, at night, he goes to sleep and voila. There is dinner. Tom Kha soup. Chilli. Balsamic braised chicken. Pulled pork tacos.

If I had to choose between my amazing-leaving-chocolate-bars-in-the-car-for-me husband and this slow cooker it would be tight race right now. But I live in a world where I don’t have to choose.

We all have our roles in our family. Feeding the boys is one of mine. I like to make sure Dan has something good to take to work. I like packing up sauces and things in little tupperwares for him and thinking that when he opens it he’ll think of me and how I made sure it was just right. I love it when he tells me that his colleagues swoon over his lunch.

It’s a nice thing. To take care of each other in little ways.

I’m finishing this in Florida and Dan’s in Calgary still. I’m missing him and wondering if he’s thinking of me. (Hi Dan.)

(P.S. Some interesting reading on love in Brain Pickings. An essay about Alain Badiou’s In Praise of Love, “an impassioned and immensely insightful defense of both love as a human faculty and love as a worthwhile philosophical pursuit.”

Badiou writes: “Love… is a quest for truth… truth in relation to something quite precise: what kind of world does one see when one experiences it from the point of view of two and not one? What is the world like when it is experienced, developed and lived from the point of view of difference and not identity? That is what I believe love to be.”

Like Badiou, I believe love-the real long-term stuff- as a lifelong project, of sorts. Something we are always working on; “a tenacious adventure”.)

 

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