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Dear Caroline,

I’m typing this while talking to you. You have no idea, yet. And won’t, for some time, if I can manage it just right.

This week has been insane. Family from out of town on my end, you going to visit family on yours. It’s been 7 days since I’ve touched you. It feels like forever. I’ve never been so long without kissing your lips or touching your skin or brushing your hair off of your forehead.

So many of our seeds have sprouted. I cannot wait until the garden is really growing. Until we’re harvesting veggies together. Smelling herbs. Picking other things to try next year. Planning and laying out these things, together. Building a home and a dream with each other.

The cucumbers, tomatoes, and sugar snap peas are already up.

The cucumbers, tomatoes, and sugar snap peas are already up.

Until our after dinner walks are through the yard, colander in hand, picking the fruits of our love and labor together. The cucumbers warmed by the afternoon sun. The warm, juicy tomatoes. The fragrant herbs. The specialty herbs like chocolate mint, orange thyme, and pineapple sage that will smell so good in our kitchen when we’re cooking together.

Being able to look outside and see tangible proof of our love. These. These things that are our babies. These things that we’ve grown and tended together.

Tiny cinnamon basil sprouts.

Tiny cinnamon basil sprouts.

I keep thinking that the kitchen will be our place. The warmest and most inviting part of our home. I can’t wait until it’s really “ours”. I can’t wait until we can cook together again, in our home this time. I can move so effortlessly around you, stopping only to push aside your hair and kiss the back of your neck, to lean in and kiss your ear, to mix my hands with yours in whatever you are doing.

To run outside and grab a few sprigs of chocolate mint to top your cupcakes. To pinch some purple basil for the pesto. To grab the orange thyme and pineapple sage for the chicken. To slice cucumbers and pick kale and buttercrunch lettuce for a salad for you. The fresh cinnamon basil for your tea. The lemon basil for the lemonade. The eggplant on the grill.

Dinner outside on the patio, surrounded by everything we’ve worked so hard for. To dine together al fresco, surrounded by sweet and savory smells.

This is all I want in the whole, wide world.

Love,

Stacy

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