Saturday, December 20, 2014

The Sea of Love

Today I want to spend time here, to write it all down, to converse with you (with myself), to tell you a bit of everything.

I want to spend time telling you about the Sea of Stones, about cooking, and eating, and what that means to me. About how I am the Alice Waters in my dear group of friends, the Ruth Reichl, the (gulp) Julia Child. I want to spend hours here mapping out how I learned to cook--why I cook. Mapping for you the pitfalls, disasters, the worst gazpacho in the history of the world or my pathetic attempts at fried fish (the smell alone is worthy of a post.) I want to spend time explaining the world through food--I know it well enough.

But alas, I'm making the choice that I make so often, to curb my words, to pause my thoughts, in order to spend time with my family. You know how much I love them. I don't have to tell you, right? You see it in the letters of agony, of joy--the stories of how I always choose. If I didn't love them, it wouldn't be a choice worth the space on this blog. If I didn't love them, the decision wouldn't be difficult.

I haven't played guitar in a few days either. I should have been a singer that can cook, but instead I'm a cook who can sing. Oh me.

For the new year, I will write about food. Let me know if there's anything you want me to tell. I might write on demand. See how that goes.

Xs to Os

Oh, and if you find more time, send me some, ok?

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