Yesterday, in honor of Betty's birthday afar, I made fudge--a half recipe in my small cast iron pot. Honestly, I'd forgotten how decadently good it is!
Watching it bubble in the pot was almost as pleasurable as eating it. When Will and Bonnie brought Elena over for the evening, Will said it brought back memories of his childhood and I sent it home with him after a couple of pieces.
Then I put Elena in the stroller and we went to the playground until dinner time.
"How did you like gymnastics?" I asked--though I already knew.
"I did not do it," she said.
There was such confidence in her wording, no contractions, no apologies, just a clear statement of fact:
I did not do it.
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