I just wanted to pop in to say hello! from under a mountain of work. I'd rather be here, on our honeymoon, shopping for dinner.
But then again there's no Sally back then, or in Rome. And our little saltbox is full of hole-y Savoy cabbage and our Swiss chard is looking good, almost perfect. And Sally's six months and a day, clamoring for applesauce and egg yolks and anchovies.
I think, after all, I'll stay.