The piece, "A More Perfect Union," is writer Elizabeth Weil's attempt to improve her marriage. Her marriage, mind you, is good; she and her husband are both writers living in San Francisco's Bernal Heights, with "two kids, two jobs, a house, a tenant, a huge extended family." But.

The idea of trying to improve our union came to me one night in bed. I've never really believed that you just marry one day at the altar or before a justice of the peace. I believe that you become married - truly married - slowly, over time, through all the road-rage incidents and precolonoscopy enemas, all the small and large moments that you never expected to happen and certainly didn't plan to endure. But then you do: you endure. And as I lay there, I started wondering why I wasn't applying myself to the project of being a spouse. My marriage was good, utterly central to my existence, yet in no other important aspect of my life was I so laissez-faire. Like most of my peers, I applied myself to school, friendship, work, health and, ad nauseam, raising my children. But in this critical area, marriage, we had all turned away. I wanted to understand why. I wanted not to accept this. Dan, too, had worked tirelessly - some might say obsessively - at skill acquisition. Over the nine years of our marriage, he taught himself to be a master carpenter and a master chef. He was now reading Soviet-era weight-training manuals in order to transform his 41-year-old body into that of a Marine. Yet he shared the seemingly widespread aversion to the very idea of marriage improvement. Why such passivity? What did we all fear?

So, they start the marriage-improvement project, "But how to start? What would a better marriage look like? More happiness? Intimacy? Stability? Laughter? Fewer fights? A smoother partnership? More intriguing conversation? More excellent sex?" To find out, she starts a round of self-help and classes (which, in the Bay Area, would appear to be thick on the ground) and therapy, both sexual and emotional. And through this, they realize there are Underlying Problems.

We spent far more money on food than we did on our mortgage. Sure, we ate well. Very well. Our refrigerator held, depending on the season: homemade gravlax, Strauss organic milk, salt-packed anchovies, little gem lettuces, preserved Meyer lemons, imported Parmesan, mozzarella and goat cheese, baby leeks, green garlic, Blue Bottle coffee ($18 a pound), supergroovy pastured eggs. On a ho-hum weeknight Dan might make me pan-roasted salmon with truffled polenta in a Madeira shallot reduction. But this was only a partial joy. Dan's cooking enabled him to hide out in plain sight; he was home but busy - What? I'm cooking dinner! - for hours every evening. During this time I was left to attend to our increasingly hungry, tired and frantic children and to worry about money. That was our division of labor: Dan cooked, I tended finances. Because of the cooking, in part, we saved little for retirement and nothing for our children's college educations.

When she admits that "I garnered no sympathy from our friends," we feel them (despite the passive-aggression of acts like "slipping crispy fried pigs' ears" into her salads). She and her husband start to fight, although whether from the stress of the "project" or the result of self-discovery is unclear. "What if my good marriage was not floating atop a sea of goodness, adrift but fairly stable when pushed? What if my good marriage was teetering on a precipice and any change would mean a toppling, a crashing down?"

Ultimately, she finds that the project was either effective or ineffective. It's hard to say - because marriage is complicated. In a review of Jane Gardam's new novel The Man in the Wooden Hat, Louisa Thomas writes that

In Gardam's hands, marriage can be the stuff of comedy, especially farce. One minute Betty is despairing, still feeling trapped in her marriage, and the next she's pressing her face against her husband's shirt, thinking how much she loves him. Over the course of their 50 years together, the complexity of their relationship only intensifies. They keep some secrets and confess others; they act generously but also with passive aggression, sometimes in the span of a single moment.

Gardam is a writer who evokes marital intimacy with special vividness, probably because of a willingness to acknowledge these obvious ebbs and flows and the inherent drama of longevity. I couldn't help but think of that, and of the classic Monogamy (which Weil should, perhaps, have read and saved herself a lot of money), in which Adam Phillips writes, "Growing old together, or growing young together? There is always something to resist, or defy." He's right; the difference is, most people don't need to manufacture it.

A More Perfect Union [NY Times]

————— Forwarded message ————— From: Blair Johnson Date: Fri, Feb 22, 2008 at 12:59 AM Subject: Walter asked me to marry him, and I said yes! To:

(Pictures to come in next e-mail)

Dear Family and Friends,

The subject line says it all: I'm getting married to the man of my dreams!! Last weekend, Walter asked me to marry him, and I said yes! And soon, I will be the future Mrs. Walter R.M. Montgomery!

Many of you know that I spent the month of January at home in FL, recovering from a bad case of mono. Little did I know how the Lord would use that case of mono to bless me for the rest of my life...

THE LEAD UP TO THE QUESTION
Resting at home in FL, I missed Walter so very much. He planned to come down and visit me halfway through my stay there. We had a beautiful time at the beach and around my hometown... but in coming to FL he also got to meet my dad. He had gotten to know my mom a couple times on her visits to VA, but he had never met my father.

Consequently, Walter called prior to his coming, if he could spend some one-on-one time with my dad. So the two shared breakfast one morning. When I asked how it went, Walter told me they had a great time talking about hunting, trucks, etc. What Walter didn't tell me was that he also asked my father for his blessing to marry me...

One week later, Walter explained to me over the phone that his parents wanted to get all his siblings together in Louisville, KY (his hometown) to celebrate some birthdays, and while he felt he should be there (his brother and sister were flying in from out-of-town too), he didn't want to spend another weekend without me... would I please go with him? I was so excited to visit his family again, (having spent Thanksgiving with them in the Fall) they are wonderfully warm and kind people, I was thrilled at the chance! So, one week after that, I returned to VA on a Thursday, only to leave the very next day on Friday. While we did enjoy a birthday dinner and light candles on the cake that night, I was soon to find out that everyone had come into town for a different celebration...

At the end of the family gathering that night, Walter nonchalantly asked his older brother Titus if he could borrow his truck the next morning. Walter wanted to take me out to his Grandpa's farm where he and his 4 brothers and sister had grown up over the years. Throughout our 7 months of dating, I have heard countless stories of Montgomery adventures on that farm - stories of planting fields and hunting deer, quail, doves, turkeys - anything that moves. I was so excited and eager to see the farm; I knew how important that land was to him since he told me that's where he learned many of life's important lessons and enjoyed God's blessings. And soon, I was to learn too.

THE PROPOSAL
February 16, 2008 (Best day of my life until our wedding day!)
Saturday, February 16th, Walter and I drove to the farm. Once we were inside the farm gate, he pulled out a rolled up piece of aged brown paper, tied with a piece of leather string. He told me open it. What I found was an intricate map of the farm, detailing every field, creek, and pond... but it was in the appearance of an old Spanish explorer's map. I noticed an "X" by the Duck Pond, and I looked at him, asking, "X marks the spot?" And he said, "That's right, babe. We're going on a treasure hunt!" While I have hoped for a long time that Walter would one day propose to me, I didn't expect it then because I thought our trip to the farm was a last minute thought... and I thought wrong!

With him as the off-roading driver and me as the navigator, we set out to follow the map's trails to the "X." We got out of the truck and wandered a little ways through the forest, until we got to a small clearing in the woods. It was a beautiful spot overlooking the frozen Duck Pond, the sun shining down on us through the trees. And truly, the Lord's light was shining down on us.

THE QUESTION THAT CHANGED MY LIFE, AND THE
ANSWER THAT CHANGED HIS

Suddenly, Walter stopped telling me tales of the farm. He took me in his arms, and staring into my eyes, he said words that took my breath away.

"Bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh."

These words were the first words Adam said to Eve (Genesis 2:23). The first words spoken from a man to his wife. Essentially saying, God has made you to be a part of me and me to be a part of you.

Walter continued...

"Blair, I have loved you. I love you. And I will love you the rest of my life."

Tears welled in my eyes, as I watched Walter get down on one knee. It was as if time stood still when I heard his next words:

"Blair Ann Johnson, Will you marry me?"

I threw my arms around his neck in such joy,but I couldn't believe he was proposing to me! The moment for which I had waited since I was a little girl and for which I had prayed since I was 14 years old... was actually happening! I was breathing so hard!

Finally, I found the words, "Yes, Walter! Oh yes, thank you Lord, yes!" And he kissed me, and our lives were changed for the rest of our time on this earth.
And in the joy of knowing that I would be his wife and he my husband, I forgot about...

THE RING!!
As he rose from the ground, he slipped onto my left ring finger, the most beautiful, exquisite engagement ring I could ever desire - a solitaire diamond, tiffany setting, in platinum (see pictures attached).

But the true beauty of the ring comes not from how it sparkles in the light, but its symbolism shows his heart for me.

The diamond is his great grandmother's diamond, the one she wore to his parents wedding, and I will now where to ours. What an incredibly special way to be invited into his family: on the farm of his mother's family with a ring from his father's family.

Beneath the diamond there are two small white diamonds. Walter later told me that he searched hundreds of rings of several jewelers before he found this ring (a treasure hunt, indeed!). He searched so diligently because, after asking God to show him what kind of ring to give me, he was deeply impressed with the need to find one with two smaller diamonds. The two small diamonds and one large diamond represent the following truth that will guide our marriage:

Apart from each other, we, like the two small white diamonds, are just two small creatures here on this earth.

Yet, in Christ's love, the two of us become one. As one, we shine His light, His love in a greater, more powerful way than any individual ever could alone. Our love is neither of ourselves, nor is it found on this earth. Rather, our love is a love from Heaven, created and sustained by God to demonstrate His character of goodness, righteousness, redemption, and truth. Truly, our love is a miracle, and we give God the glory for it. It is only because Jesus loves us, and we love Him, that we can
love each other.
And love each other, we do!!
A Montgomery WELCOME
After a few quiet, tender moments, we hopped into the truck and headed

—- end of quote —-