One hundred twenty-five years ago, the following appeared in the Jewish newspaper in my hometown:
A training school for women about to enter the nuptial state might be a capital idea, as many of the marital complications are the result of ignorance of the first principles of cooking. The woman who desires to keep her husband in a good humor should be careful as to the food she offers him, for indigestion and consequent ill humor are the outcome of viands improperly prepared and badly served…the woman who sets a dainty meal before her lord and master has a much better chance of retaining his affection than she who ignores his physical needs.
After I picked myself up off the floor and stopped laughing hysterically, I sobered up. Geez – maybe if I mastered the art of sautéing, steaming, roasting and braising, I could get out of doing all the other sh#t on my “To Do” list. And simply pass each item off to my “lord and master.”
For instance:
Picking up my repaired ring at the jeweler’s
Mailing out donated clothes of my husband’s to a hospital orderly we befriended years ago
Food shopping
Making our doctor appointments for our yearly skin exams
Figuring out how to get a Covid vaccine
Re-hanging the Toulouse Lautrec print that fell in the bathroom
Washing the garage floor
My To Do List seems both never-ending and ever expanding.
And that doesn’t even take into account the serious stuff I keep putting off because I can’t deal with my own mortality or my hubby’s:
Designating a health care proxy if my husband and I can’t speak for ourselves
Updating our will
Making an advance medical directive stating our end-of-life wishes
I’m not totally remiss about recognizing I’m in the winter of my life. In notes on my phone, I already have a folder marked “Funeral” with three separate listings and one marked “Obit/Eulogy” so I make sure what is said about me is pre-approved by me! And I also figure that both the huge physical and digital stash of my weekly columns will certainly serve as a permanent reminder of what was important to me. (Note to self: make sure kids have my list of Passwords.)
So here’s a start of the stuff to keep off the bargain table and to pass on:
Realistically I know most of our possessions will end up on a folding table in our front yard with a sign that says, “3 for $1″ or “Make a Reasonable Offer.”
Realistically, I know my children and grandchildren don’t have the time or the interest to carefully peruse each item my husband and I own and judiciously decide its fate.
Realistically, I know that is a task I am willing to tackle – it seems more interesting at this time in my life than enrolling in a culinary class on the fundamentals of Italian Cuisine to ensure the lord and master of my domain is properly fed.
So here’s a start:
My husband’s and my first-grade elementary readers
My grandmother’s tea cups
Swords from Russia carried over by a great-grandfather
As for the jewelry, clothes, furniture and art work we own – let my five sons, three daughters-in-law and seven grandchildren decide among themselves who gets what. It’s almost worth sticking around to see their preferences and the ensuing negotiations.
Whew. I’m elated. One more thing crossed off my List. Now I can go figure out what to scramble up for my “Lord and Master’s” dinner. And, maybe, I’ll have time to learn how to use the immersion blender I ordered (but never opened) months ago in the never-ending quest to retain my husband’s affections.
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
Iris Ruth Pastor