shiny objects
Sometimes, when we’re on our evening walk, my husband and I get to chatting about new things we’ve learned. His stuff naturally revolves around his interests or a good yarn he’s had shared with him. Sometimes he’ll tell me some juicy story about a friend of a friend who found himself in a pickle. But, mostly, when we talk, it’s me doing it. He doesn’t talk as much as I do. He doesn’t really care to. What he decides to share is always more pointed and refined than my jibbery jabber about this and that and wow, look at the squirrel!
When our kids were small, our evening conversations post-bedtime-tuck-in were usually about the kids themselves. We would discuss any issues we were having with any of them. We would talk about logistics and finances and how we might navigate both. We still talk about our kids, but they’re not kids anymore. We don’t need to manage their logistics or make their lunches. Now, we often talk about new things we’re learning or experiences we’ve recently had. It’s downright fascinating for me to listen to my husband talk about something I would never be interested in otherwise. It’s like listening to an alien creature, animated and enthusiastic, sharing some secret world with me. It’s absolutely delightful to see this fella’ of mine light up with excitement by the sharing of something that intrigues him.
That goes both ways. I could tell Troy about how I tweaked something in a recent herbal preparation or share with him something I learned about the matrix of a fingernail or tell him all about my latest silk dying pursuits and he listens with authentic interest. Would he ever make herbs or play around with fruit preserves? No, never. It’s not his thing, but it’s my thing.
We don’t share a lot of each other’s interests, but we do share the fact that we’re both interested in life. We go out into the world and collect our shiny objects to bring back to the nest to share with each other. When our kids were small I sometimes wondered