Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Love Language.

Food is most certainly a love language of mine. I like to feed people. I love a good dinner. I like preparing and offering really good flavorful food. I really like to feed my husband. Yesterday was windy and overcast. I put on some Ella Fitzgerald (ma fav) and started pounding the garlic. A short time later the house smelled like olde world Italy, like stepping back with the Italian grandmothers that passed along the good sauce recipes. It's all, and I mean, allll about the sauce, isn't it? That sauce was like a warm blanket wrapped around my shoulders. My boys were playing at my feet, and Graycen was taking samples of sauce off the wooden spoon as I asked her, "What else does it need?" I hope my children have fun here. I hope they remember the feel and smell of home cooking. I hope they receive the over flow of love when a hard working husband walks through the door at the end of the day and dips his wife for a kiss, among the aroma of good food. This folks, this, is love communicating. 
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