The Sixth: Not Dancing or Trees, But Laughter At The Kitchen Table

Our sixth wedding anniversary happened this month. Our car broke down before it happened, and we made plans to attend free-and-fun stuff on our anniversary. Then we found out that we wouldn’t have our car to attend said free events until two days after said anniversary.

We were planning to attend a First Annual Couch Race–which might also be known as People Muddling Through Something That Sounds Like Loads of Fun to Put On–then going to an art gallery and, while Toby was babysat, a jazz festival.

We are not normally a family who depends on a car for survival. He proudly bikes to work and I regularly use the bus for errands. But the buses here don’t run on Saturday; our car is a weekend-and-grocery car. So, instead, we exchanged our gifts and had an otherwise low-key day.

I was reading a reference book some weeks ago and stumbled upon one of those “This Is Of What Substance Your Gift Should Consist For What Anniversary Year” list. These things are twisted because there’s a traditional list, a modern list, and a travel list. The traditional list suggests wood as your fifth year, but the list I was looking at also suggested wood for the sixth year. If you’re modern, wood is set back a year because it’s so cool.

Of course, I’ll be traditional in two years–the modern list doesn’t even list pottery. And according to the modern people, you give gifts for the first fifteen years, then just stop gifting until the twentieth–yeah, that’s going to spawn good spousal relations. I like getting silver hollowware, furniture, porcelain, and bronze-made stuff much better than I like getting nothing.

Maybe you should just get me a certificate for a planted tree instead.

Not Newly Planted Trees, But Rather, Two Trees With Lots of Anniversaries Behind Them

I think the point of these gift list things are to give very general suggestions of what to get for each other. I suggested the whole “Made of Wood” thing to Just’In. Because I told him I’d already bought his present; his face blanked, and I guessed he might be panicking.

The suggestion went through marvellously, and I laughed long and hard at his cleverness: after explaining that it was for both of us, he had me open this first, which is appropriate because, above all material things, we both just love books.

Then, he had me open this: it’s been on my wishlist ever since I realized I had no concept of time in my study area when not using my laptop. And I love it.

Or you could just throw everything out the window and get your most-significant-other something they’ve wanted since childhood, when their cousin had one just like it: A seatbelt-belt, without any sort of car logo or letter on the buckle, and maroon, which is his favorite color. (If I were to make one suggestion when purchasing one of these: get a thinner belt–I bought The Original, and he had to squeeze that adjuster through the belt loops)

We both loved our gifts for each other. And we had a lovely anniversary celebration on the next Saturday instead.

If you are, by chance, looking for an anniversary gift made of wood, I’ve linked to several other wood suggestions throughout this post. I mean, other than the ones we eventually gave each other. They’re all handmade by American Etsy sellers; as is likely on Etsy, if the particular item is already bought, try the seller’s shop. They often sell similar or duplicate items.

About The Original Kate

Along with artistic tendencies, Kate enjoys unusual people and is constantly striving for some sort of nonconformity. Kate offers a perspective that is thoughtful but well-written and full of images within the words. Other tidbits that might intrigue: she has very long auburn hair, and, you guessed it, her favorite color is orange.

Posted on August 18, 2011, in From Moss-Lined Oregon and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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