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So John spent about 5 hours yesterday making a pot of this incredible Manhattan clam chowder for me for Valentine’s Day. I’m telling you, there were real clams and chopped and diced onions, peppers, carrots, tomatoes, celery, garlic, and about 6 different kinds of herbs, and bacon, all of which he prepared very neatly beforehand (while also watching Will) and arranged into little bowls according to when each type of thing would need to be added. (I was working yesterday afternoon and came home to find him with this perfect mise en place situation, and I asked him if that’s what he had been doing, and he was like, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, it just made sense.” This man. He also bought me two candles from anthropologie for the occasion, but I didn’t want to turn this into a whole thing about how my husband is the best ever, so I’ll just stop with that. Except he also whipped us up some omelets this morning and asked me if I knew that Valentine’s Day was actually 3 days long, and that we were on day 2 today. Ok, I’m done.)

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Anyway, back to last night.  Will fell asleep like the little sack of sugar that he is at 6:15 and we watched an episode of the West Wing while we waited for the soup to finish.  It did, and we sat down and ate, and it was of course completely delicious in that way that food often is when it has more than 3 ingredients, which is not something we see around here very often. So we were eating and talking about life and enjoying the Trader Joe’s vinho verde when John suddenly shouted out with pain, pulled a chunk of clam out of his mouth, and from that piece of clam….. pulled out……….. I am not kidding you…………… a pearl. 

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True story. I didn’t think clams even made pearls, but as it turns out they do. And they are more rare than pearls from oysters.  It kind of looks like a BB pellet, and I am still a little skeptical, but by golly I am taking this pearl to the jewelers and having them make me a little necklace or ring out of it.  When I told John this plan, he said in a very irritated tone and I quote, “Maybe in 50 years you can make a ring out of it. I’m not paying to have that done right now.” End quote.

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Also, I’m keeping it in this little box along with two treasures of mine from childhood, a little pitcher from a tea set I played with at my granny Laurie’s house when I was tiny, and this strange fertility goddess and baby that I fashioned out of clay at age 6 or 7. That is all.

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