Mica, Sophie and I took a road trip early in the day so Mica could restock her pantry with fancy balsamic vinegars and olive oils. She likes to prepare meals, while Sophie likes to cook and I am fine with peanut butter toast for two meals a day.
I had to do most of the cooking growing up. I learned to follow recipes and eventually alter them as needed to improve them. By the time I moved out on my own I was good at it. Gradually, though, I stopped wanting to take the time to prepare full meals, and after awhile I stopped caring about meals altogether. These days I want quick and easy. I rely on the slow cooker a lot.
Knowing I was going to prepare a meal tonight, I tasted a few of the olive oils and vinegars and bought a pair we could for dipping bread.
Blaine and I had kicked around a few different ideas for what to do tonight. The one we had liked the most was to do nothing but to do it together. So, we made dinner at his house--one of my favorite pasta dishes, a simple recipe that doesn’t sound flavorful (linguine, cod, bacon and tomato) but is fantastic. Blaine provided a pinot grigio, part of his promise from awhile back to introduce me to better wines.
I paired my phone to his bluetooth speakers, and we listened to a bluesy playlist while we cooked, ate and finished the wine. When the playlist ended, Blaine selected another. It seems he is determined that I let go of the idea that I can’t dance. As I gave in and followed him to the open area between the couch and dining room, I warned that while I’ll give it my best shot he should not be surprised when it turns out to be hopeless. He believes there will be a different outcome.
He also believes that he and I have something special happening. I agree but am having to let it sink in.
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