I have taken notice of many things in my life concerning the development of relationships. A good relationship will have things that stand out and stand alone. There is, according to Hoyle, never going to be one that will not have some rocky times. But those who have had or are in relationships will attest to the fact that the act of making the rocky times smooth and the making up afterward is something not to shake a stick at either.
Here's a correlation I want to share that over the years I have come to notice and in noticing I have come to believe that, when it correlates, it might be the fates.
I loved that when we went somewhere my other half would hold my hand and I believe he did that because I buttered his toast all the way to the edges. Yes, that was something he noticed and mentioned to me more than a few times. Well, it wasn’t just the buttering of toast that kept us together for all those 43 years, but! Yes, a buttered to the edge “but.” Buttering toast was something he not only noticed, he appreciated too. That, it was that appreciation, which had a lot to do with what kept the toast warm in our lives.
Now not everyone will like toast buttered all the way to the edges. No, some will like a pad or a plop of butter in the middle and want to spread it themselves after it warms and gets all melty. The secret is to find out what the desire of your affection likes and to butter toast that way. Then doing it just that way every time you make toast for your other half. I am a creature of noticing people I care about and when I saw so many years ago that the new guy in my life liked not only great black and white border collies and my banana cream pie, but that his toast was buttered all the way to the edges? Those were the things I strived to keep in his life as best I could.
If you are in a new to you thing and things are not, well let’s say, not all smooth and buttery? Don’t you dare talk of buttering toast to your new heart’s desire. No, you need to take a step back here and find how they might like the butter on their toast. Then in the next few days find a way for that person to butter something for you. That will tell you, I would bet, if things will be more of that smooth slathering or your butter may be cut from a cold hard cube. I wonder, what will you find?
A story my dad told a few times about butter is this. When he was a kid — a very long time ago — his mother ran a boarding house in a railroad town in South Dakota. The railroad workers stayed in her boarding house, and they were a rowdy bunch who worked and played hard. And they ate, a lot. So much so that to cut down on the amount of butter they consumed she would make her butter in a round mold. Then she would chill the butter and just before putting it on the table she would set it on a slightly warmed flat plate. That way the men couldn’t easily cut off gobs of butter because it was hard and if they did get a knife into the ball, it would just slide around on the dish. Oh, I can just see her butterball as it got attacked from all sides.
That story taught me a lot about life and to relate butter to life. When you find that you are chasing something around and around and can’t seem to nail it down, to enjoy what you are chasing? Warm up everything concerning your desire and maybe things will slide your way easier. Or not. We all learn as we go.
Buttering toast is such a small but powerful thing. Almost as reliable as listening to what your mom or dad tells you as you move forward in life. Now my dad, yes, the butter storyteller, liked my other half from the first time they met. Mom though was a different story. Oh, she liked him. Right up until he caught a bigger fish than she did.
Then to add insult to injury he wanted to have his mounted so he kept it in her bathtub over a few days so he could get it safely to the “dead fish guy.” Suffice to say afterward she chilled the butter when we went to her house for dinner.
Trina Machacek lives in Eureka. Her books are available wherever you buy books or email her at itybytrina@yahoo.com to buy signed copies.