I really tossed up whether to cancel our Sunday Open House dinner tonight. I was exhausted with sadness and, I admit it, self-pity. The thought of having to be up and at it tomorrow morning, for the school carpool then back to work, made me want to curl up in my cave and sleep this afternoon.
But a day alone in the kitchen is therapeutic, so I worked slowly and steadily, producing: fish tacos, stuffed poblanos, red rice, roasted cauliflower, pecan cookies, matzo toffee, and berry turnovers for tonight, plus lentil burgers and a leek and asparagus quiche for the week ahead.
When the last guest left and we were cleaning up, I let the glass lid of my stockpot slide onto the floor and shatter into a thousand shards.
I was too exhausted to react. My good man vacuumed then hand-mopped the kitchen floor, while I watched in detached appreciation.
Thank you honey. You go the extra mile.