I rediscovered the book Mrs. Miniver recently at the library. It’s been fun to read it again and savor some of my favorite parts.

I especially love this section:

“As she walked past a cab rank in Pont Street, Mrs. Miniver heard a very fat taxi-driver with a bottle nose saying to a very old taxi-driver with a rheumy eye: ‘They say it’s all a question of your subconscious mind.’

Enchanted she put the incident in her pocket for Clem. It jostled, a bright pebble, against several others: she had had a rewarding day. And Clem, who had driven down to the country to lunch with a client, would be pretty certain to come back with some good stuff, too.

This was the cream of marriage, this nightly turning out of the day’s pocketful of memories, this deft habitual sharing of two eyes, two pairs of ears. It gave you, in a sense, almost a double life: though never, on the other hand, quite a single one.”

Mrs. Miniver by Jan Struther

I love the idea of collecting ideas, events, attitudes, thoughts, etc… like pebbles in my pocket. Then when my husband comes home, I slowly empty them one by one and share them.

It really is the cream of marriage.

What pebbles did you collect today?

465px-bundesarchiv_bild_183-2004-0512-507_spaziergangI was talking to a good friend in church yesterday when she said, “My husband asked me to take a walk in the moonlight last night…”

“How exciting!” I responded, not noticing the twinkle in her eyes.

“Yes”, she said, “we walked in the moonlight with a million stars over our heads!”

“Ohhh, how romantical!” I gushed. “Did he hold your hand?”

Then she laughed, “No, we were both holding flashlights in one hand and he had a calf puller in the other. My husband needed help finding a cow that had wandered off to have her calf.”

As I heard the story about the lost cow and their adventure in the moonlight I couldn’t help but think that it could be considered a date.

My definition of a date has changed over the years. I used to think that it was an official date only if we went out to eat and did something fun without the children.

As the babies kept coming and the finances got tighter, I soon realized that my idea was no longer practical.

I discovered that often it was those “stolen” moments in the day that became special.

Sipping root beer floats in the porch swing on a hot summer evening after the kids went to bed…

Cuddling on the couch while watching a movie…

Feeding the kids early and lighting candles to eat our supper together alone when he works late…

Waking up early and enjoying a quiet breakfast together before he heads out the door…

Holding hands on a family walk while we watch the children run on the trail ahead of us…

The secret is being together. It’s finding time to enjoy each other within the busyness of our day to day life.

It’s being creative with the time I have alone with my husband.

Even if it’s a walk in the moonlight to look for a lost cow.