Here’s what he’ll come home to….
The aroma of his favorite fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies.
Homemade egg pasta with a pesto I made from wild leeks, spinach, roasted garlic, toasted pine nuts and Parmesan cheese.
A salad of our own just-picked garden greens and my own pickled asparagus.
A batch of salmon candy (it’s marinating as we speak).
I’ve trimmed the yard, planted the flowers, herbs and potatoes, pulled every tick from the dog, swept the basketball court free of debris after our wind storm, filled the house with roses (stolen from the neighbor’s yard but they’ll never miss them as they live in Europe and the house, although maintained, is empty 99.99% of the time), washed the sheets– again– shaved my legs, and treated myself to a spa day for a pedicure and a waxing of parts heretofore unmentionable.
(I first took a picture of my right foot but then I realized you would see my hideously deformed broken little toe… I mean, it’s bad enough that my toes are so long I can pick things up, monkey-style.)
I’m such a feminist and a little wifey all at the same time. The two are not mutually exclusive. One is based on highfalutin principles, the other is based on love.