Slow Life In: The Country With One--39-s Beloved Wife

No one is honking. No one needs an answer right now. The potatoes are growing in the dark earth. The woman I love is humming off-key in the kitchen.

The love of a younger couple is a firecracker—loud, bright, gone. The love at thirty-nine years is a woodstove. You feed it a little at a time. You bank the coals at night. You know exactly how to open the damper so it breathes just right. It doesn't roar. It holds . It keeps the chill off your bones for decades. Slow Life In The Country With One--39-s Beloved Wife

And there is absolutely nowhere else I would ever want to be. No one is honking