As difficult as this is to narrow down to a mere ten, I was intrigued enough by Stasha’s Monday Listicles topic to enlist the help of the Fab Hub to help me try. This family loves good food and we have had many good meals. But if we had to pick ten of the best meals of our marriage, these are probably the winners.

Some of these were one-time deals; others are things we enjoy eating over and over again. There are some personal favorites and some shared. But each of these has a special place in our hearts (uh, stomachs). You’ll find that they are about so much more than the food (although that’s usually pretty good, too).

And so, in no particular order, here we go…The Ten Best Meals of Our Marriage.

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Have you seen the movie Brave?

Last summer we took Kidzilla to see her first in-theater movie and that was the one. I am not a huge Disney Princess fan, but this one worked for me. This princess, Merida, is reluctant at best. She wants no part of her mother’s arranged marriage plan; when the competition to win her hand gets underway, Merida comes up with a clever scheme to compete for her own hand. I like this girl.

One of my favorite scenes in this film is this one below, where Merida snags a day off from her mother’s grueling princess preparations and heads out for the day with only the companionship of her beloved steed, Angus, and her trusty bow and arrow. The song is fantastic.

When we first saw Brave, I cried like a baby through this scene. Why? This girl reminds me so much of Kidzilla… I can’t explain it, really. All sorts of things make me teary since she came along.

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I ran an errand to the mall today and ended up sitting at my Grandparents’ grave site.

I don’t know why, really. I’m not much of a grave visitor.

I had a rough day today. But I’ve had other rough days and none have sent me running to their grave. Perhaps it is just that I happened to be by myself this afternoon and wanted just a few more minutes of solitude before switching gears from day job Me to Wife and Mamma. It’s never good to bring the day home.

So I pulled into the cemetery and quickly found their bench.



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On the night they met, my Grandmother told my Grandfather that he was crazy.

I’m pretty sure she told him that many more times over the course of their life together, but that night was the first – at least that’s how I remember the story.

My Grandparents were practically babies when they met – 14 and 15, I believe. They met on a snowy New Year’s Eve in an alley downtown in a year when it was still safe to walk down an alley downtown after dark. A different time… She and her friends were supposed to meet up with some boys they knew at a New Year’s Eve gathering, but either someone didn’t show or the plans changed so the girls left. He was walking around town with his friends, “looking to find some gals” when the two groups crossed paths in that alley.




My favorite version of their story is the one he told so many times…

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I cried over my dinner tonight.

It wasn’t that it was horrible. In fact, it was quite good.

Roast beef cooked all day in the slow cooker until it fell apart with just a touch of the fork. Fluffy mashed potatoes with real butter and real milk whipped up just so with the electric mixer. Sweet corn with just a touch of butter. Homemade pan gravy from the meat juices. Good old-fashioned Sunday dinner. Perfect.

It tasted just like my Grandmother’s.

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