So all must be right with the world. Tart clementine sections and crisp apples slices dipped in smooth, warm chocolate can only signal harmony. And yet.
I didn't really have dinner first, just a glass of wine with cheese and dried sausage slices and thyme-parmesan crackers (yes, homemade) while skyping with Meg, one of my beloved shadow sisters and a dear, sweet, beautiful friend. She's one of the many, many reasons I miss Seattle so much. (Lorraine. Audrey. Tanya. The mist. The views. The lakes. The coffee. The restaurants. The I'm home feeling.)
The boys did, have dinner, I mean - chicken and rice soup (yes, of course, also homemade).
Back to harmony.
This past week has been so difficult and so easy, so breath catchingly hard and so flowy smooth all at once that my only hope of survival was chocolate fondue.
For those of you out there who think I'm just freaking out about my approaching birthday (two weeks from today), think again.
And no, to those same people, it's not going to get a whole lot worse between now and then.
I'll eat chocolate fondue every night if I have to.