Michael and I celebrated our anniversary on Friday. It's been 11 years since we met at Angie's 18th birthday party in Rosetown. Sure, we're not married, but you'd think the sheer length of time would give us some sort of official status in his grandma's eyes. Nope. Only married couples can sleep together in her house. I can't figure out if that is a reason to protest marriage or a reason to just get married already.
We celebrated the anniversary by going to Zambri's for dinner. Our meal was unbelievable and I'd like to go back soon, especially because it's in my neighbourhood. First, the fried mozzarella appetizer is one of the best things we've ever eaten. It was served on top of minty orange pieces and with four types of compotes for dipping: cherry, chili, fig and date. Second, there was some luxurious type of bacon in my pasta. Third, the lemony aperitif that we drank before the meal was delicious and strong, making for some wonderful dinner-time conversation. All of those things made our anniversary great (if you didn't catch them the first time, those things were cheese, bacon and booze).
But do you know what's more impressive than 11 years?
My parents celebrated their coral wedding anniversary on Nov. 25, 2007, and since I never wrote about it then, I'm doing it now. Mom and Dad, your relationship has provided me with a pretty good example of relationship longevity. Keep up with the good example!
I didn't buy my folks a coral present. Instead, I gave them one of my favorite books ever: Learning To Love You More by Miranda July and Harrell Fletcher. It's a very touching coffee table book about shared human experiences and creativity. The book features selections from a website that challenged people to complete and submit assignments in order to explore the value of creative constraints. The assignments were usually silly and/or simple, but they had emotional results. I never knew about the website, which is no longer posting new assignments, until Sarah Mundy told me about it in a comment on this blog.
After musing about how I should do something more to acknowledge their momentous occasion, I realized that the answer was staring me in the face. The cover of the book features a photo of a couple kissing, which was captured for Assignment #39: take a picture of your parents kissing (or at least hugging). Do not send us an older picture of your parents, we are looking for a new picture taken specifically for this assignment.
I realized that I had to complete the assignment, and I convinced my parents to help me out. After some shyness and a few awkward angles, I got the picture I wanted:
This photo was taken in the Saskatoon Airport on January 4, 2008. My parents were dropping Michael and I off for our trip back to Victoria. Then I took a picture of them. Kissing.