The way to a man's heart

It is said, or maybe I should say that it has been said, that "The way to a man's heart is through his stomach". And quite surprisingly so, I find that statement to be well, true?
Okay? I admit it. Or at least to a portion of it.
I am not saying that it's the solid foundation for a good homesteading relationship but man, it sure makes for some damned good mortar holding everything together.
Last evening Gaia Girl made for me four of the finest pork chop marinades, with leek fritters and an incredibly delicious aromatic rice. (and she does not eat them)
I ate one chop for dinner. One for breakfast with fresh eggs. One at lunch with the most heavenly carrot and butternut squash bisque. The last I had for dinner again with rice and added a sprinkle of Frank's Louisiana hot sauce.
And lest I seem to make light of the bisque, it was Food Inc. front cover material. Beautiful in color.Texture was picture perfect. Smell was heaven made. The taste, liquid Prozac. I could have laid on the couch like an opium parlor customer; pie eyed; eyes glazed over, smile on my face, my eyes two slits wide.


 A gift for which I am grateful. 
A blessing rich with revelation 
that the heavens still shine. 
                                                            I humbly bow in gratitude.