So Brent took it upon himself to whip something up for dinner last week,
and he looked so cute in there stirring a pot that I had to document.
For your viewing pleasure, Chef Jordan makes dinner:
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And something started in my soul, fever or forgotten wings, and I made my own way, deciphering that fire, and I wrote the first faint line, faint, without substance, pure nonsense, pure wisdom of someone who knows nothing, and I suddenly saw the heavens unfastened and open. ~Pablo Neruda
1 comment:
This was the laugh I needed today.
Thank you for that.
--Abby
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