Wednesday, November 14, 2012

through a window

I've obviously started stalking Ms. Annie now.





You would too.
It is the art of Annie.
I told her she would end up having to beat me off with a broom.




We hear her husband, CP, watching a western in the living room. I always liked kitchens close to where everybody could be. In Annie's house it's like CP is in the room. The western is there too and so is the music.




If you don't have music when you cook, do you sing to yourself?






Annie is listening when she browns sugar, though part of me thinks she'd also sing if I wasn't there. Possibly do a couple of shuffle ball changes on the kitchen floor.






Yeah. I'm sure she would.






You know what her secret recipe is?



Nice but no.





Nah.






Good but not the secret.








Why am I teasing?
You know what it is.








Of course. love.


She said I could tell you but that you could only tell one other person or the world.






For all the ingredients and more photos you'll need to read eat.drink.MISSISSIPPI.
Annie's strawberry cake recipe will be there soon. I promise.






Today I am grateful for an afternoon with Annie, for westerns, for CP who told me I had to clean the kitchen so he wouldn't have to. I am grateful those two have each other.

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