Reaching for cornbread
Hen helped me make cornbread tonight, our first to make together.
She stood on a chair and pushed batter around, declaring the oven “hawt, haht.”
The heart knows what it needs, y’all.
Tonight I needed a space to create. To nourish. To share skills, to slow way down. To remember, to taste what new she brings to the long line of cornbread makers born of our blood.
I needed to be with her.
(Also, does anyone else leave butter out and ready?)