Here I am chopping up some veal in preparation for little stir fry after a running running boy party. My boy is eight. Our cows have at last stopped mooing for their mama. I’m really cold yet I wear purple stilettos and a short mini because, damn it, it’s Saturday. The onions make my eyes water. The ginger makes me salivate. Winter is still bringing on its wind and rain. But my boy, he is happy. And me? Heck yeah. This is exactly where I want to be.
and Veal Tendron