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It's kitchen gold.
For example, today we shed a little tear (I did anyway-like a proud mother on graduation day) when we harvested our first crop of tomatoes and Jim cooked up number 21, with thick spaghetti, really good fruity olive oil that my brother just brought back from Provence, and fresh basil, also from the garden.
I held up the paper, hunched over with my mouth full of spaghetti and Jim responded, "It's pretty good."
We're really meant for each other.
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