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You’ve probably read this already. So I won’t repeat it.

But I do want to share what a perfectly ordinary day this was and yet, how extraordinary it turned out to be.

17 years ago, on this date, I met the man I was meant to marry. Now, as special occasions go, you’d think we would have brought out the festoons and painted the town red or some such.

But we do things a bit differently.

I was out all morning, ferrying my daughter to class and back. Upon my return, I walked into a home filled with the aroma of home-cooked goodness. In his signature style, he’d made the tastiest sambar and the most delectable potato and cauliflower fry.

With a sheepish grin he admitted to not having added the water to the steamer for the rice, but he’d remedied it instantly and the rice had then been cooked to long-grain perfection.

As I forked a mouthful of the food into my hungry mouth, I closed my eyes and gave thanks for the best thing that’s happened in my life.

For better or for worse and through dishes cooked with overwhelming love, here’s looking at 17 years of joy and another 70 to come.

Day 35 of Daily writing

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