Now, I’m not the type of woman who goes around trumpeting her isn’t-he-incredible husband. Yes, occasionally I feel the need to get a little mushy, or show a pretty picture. But most of the time I’m quite restrained, I like to think.
The other night, after the herbed orzo dinner, I wandered into the kitchen to start cleaning up. What did I see on the counter, next to the surviving piece of St. George pottery? A second piece! The pottery fairy, also known as S, had snuck in while I wasn’t looking. It’s not an exact twin—turns out the potter hadn’t made any more in that shape; this one is slightly taller, and oval, with a creamy white interior instead of the pale sage green. It’s gorgeous, is what it is.
Besides, things that are too matchy-matchy are kind of tacky anyway, aren’t they?