All year I've been planning the meal for tomorrow, my husband's birthday. For the entire summer I horded the rhubarb harvest to ensure there was enough for his birthday pie. My stash hidden in the freezer under the leftover seeds. I have been eying the last of the venison steaks with visions of candlelight and wine. Soft music playing in the background and a relaxed meal at the table. Tomorrow night I know what we are having for dinner: venison, "old rotten potatoes", salad, and birthday rhubarb pie.
The only problem is I have to come up with something for tonight's dinner before then...
3 comments:
He probably does not read this. But here goes....
Happy Birthday Man!
I'll tell him you send the very best.
Take out!
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