the long haul

Steve and I have been married for 45 years. (No I can’t believe it either – surely we’re still in our carefree twenties).

I’ve been intrigued over the past few weeks to start noticing the artefacts (many of them wedding presents) that have made the journey with us.

It’s probably no surprise that stainless steel flatware would survive (and no doubt outlast us) just as my parents’ silverware survived them and came into our possession.  We love this Norwegian “Maya” cutlery and have six place settings, which we use mainly for special occasions.  There was a period when it came into everyday use, but the teaspoons vanished one by one, as teaspoons mysteriously do, and proved difficult (scarce and prohibitively expensive) to replace.

We were amused and gratified a few years ago when visiting an exhibition of twentieth century Scandinavian design in Glasgow to discover that our knives and forks were featured as design classics.

There are also quite a number of kitchen items, still in regular use, that date from 1972:

This well-used yellow canister contains porridge oats.

This bright yellow lemon squeezer shows no signs of age.

But this enamelled roasting dish has a more venerable appearance

And these sundry utensils have lost their paint, but are still perfectly serviceable.

Who knew that pyrex is so long-lasting?  These all came as part of a set (some have been broken).

We also have pyrex measuring jugs so well used that the measurement details have worn away.  They have been demoted to my studio for dyeing and felt making.

This glass decanter is sadly marred by limescale, but I love its fat bellied shape and the gorgeous heavy stopper.

We’re book hoarders, so many of our books predate our marriage, but there are three that were actually wedding presents or given to us at that time.

Perfect Cooking by the marvellous Marguerite Patten

Future Shock by Alvin Toffler

 And the Oxford Book of English Verse

Textiles are not renowned for their longevity, but this Irish linen double damask tablecloth (impossible to photograph) has made the journey.  It really only comes out for Christmas and family celebrations, but is special to me because it was a gift from my Irish uncle and is covered in symbols of Irish history – a double bonus of Irish heritage and mind-boggling textile skill.

My make-do-and-mend personality is demonstrated by the backing fabric of this quilt.  Once upon a time it was a yellow bed-sheet.  Back in the day Habitat had fantastic deep-dyed bedlinen and we had two duvet and sheet sets in  bright yellow and royal blue.  Over time they wore out and went out of fashion (not necessarily in that order), but I still had a yellow sheet available for the dye-bath when I wanted to finish this quilt about ten years ago.

Clearly many things that started out on the journey with us have worn out or been discarded en route.  We are looking a little careworn ourselves.  (I really can't do selfies and I hate having my photo taken, so this is true love).  But somehow or another we're both still here, still married, still friends, not thrown away.  If you know me well, you know that I'm not a great one for sentimental language or expressions of love, but I am grateful for our mutual perseverance and loyalty and the love that has fuelled them.  We're also really grateful for the things that have been added to us over the years - notably three lovely daughters, their husbands and six grandchildren, plus dozens of wonderful friends.