Dinner for Seven
Just before we got married Dave, moved from his studio apartment to a one-bedroom. As a new bride I had certain expectations of what married life would look like. I assumed it would be a continuation of our dating days, but it wasn’t. Friday nights had been our traditional date night. After we got married, I waited until the last minute hoping he would say, “Let’s eat out.” He wouldn’t ask though and I never voiced what I wanted. How could Dave guess what was on my mind? Cooking at home was challenging too. I would make way too much food as I was used to making dinner for seven. He asked, “Why did you make so much?”
Someone gave us a recipe book, Dinner for Two as a wedding gift. The first recipe I chose was Pork Chops Supreme it read, “Place chops in a baking dish. Salt well, top with a lemon slice and a thin onion, slice sprinkle generously with brown sugar, and pour ketchup over each slice.” After it baked, I dropped the casserole dish and it broke. I cried and Dave wasn’t sympathetic, he ignored my tears which hurt my feelings even more. I had ruined dinner, but there was always chicken pot pie. It also took a long time to learn and work around each other’s likes and dislikes in food. For example, if Dave said something I made for dinner was, “rich,” it meant he didn’t like it. He also preferred fruit for dessert and I loved my sweets.
After two months we moved to an apartment in downtown Roseburg, walking distance to my job, the post office, and Safeway. It was on the second floor of a house; no guys were hanging around the coin-op laundry room like our first apartment. I finally felt like I was in my territory.
Dave seemed to get comfortable with married life very quickly. He started building a small racing boat and on Sundays and left me home alone while he worked on the boat at his parent’s house. One Sunday I developed a bladder infection. I was uncomfortable and in the bathroom all afternoon. I don’t know why I would have rather he stayed with me, perhaps it could have been a comforting distraction until I could follow up with a doctor.
We shared a garbage can with Mrs. Randall, our landlady. One night I dumped leftover spaghetti noodles in it. I didn’t put them in a shopping bag to contain them. Afterward, she talked to me about the proper ways to use a garbage can. The next week I did the same thing. The next day she bought another garbage can for our use. I was embarrassed. I was used to our farm ways, which had a pig slop bucket on the back porch.
One day as I was shopping for groceries at Safeway, I was scanning the shelves looking at meat and saw that some were marked down. I asked the meat department manager about it and he said that the meat was discounted because it was a little discolored but safe to use. Buying meat always helped our grocery budget. Another time I bought a whole chicken, and when I went to use it, it smelled spoiled. I thought that as long as it was in the refrigerator it would keep. I was wrong and when I asked the butcher what happened he said there was a time limit before it would spoil even in the cold temperature. These were all things I had to learn.
I was still overwhelmed with the newness of it all. I hadn’t settled in or found places to put our wedding gifts. I also still had so many thank you notes I wanted to write. So, I decided to quit my job at the Chevrolet dealership.
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