Heaven

Richard went to Philadelphia to visit the grandkids. Five days of peace and quiet, writing, sleeping in, going out to eat, hanging with friends. Heaven.

On Sunday, I made the trek to the airport to pick him up. I was anxious to see him but also sad my single life was over. Five days seemed to have passed in a nano second. There were still plenty of things I wanted to do but had simply run out of time.

"I brought you some shoo fly cake," he said after he kissed me hello.

"Yum. When can we eat it?" I asked.

Shoo fly cake is a moist gooey version of the famous pie but without a crust. The ladies at The Cabin Shop at the Washington Memorial Chapel at Valley Forge cook it up and wrap it up with a ribbon in small tin loaf pans. Richard's mother used to make it when she volunteered at the shop. It's been a family favorite for years.

"Do you want it before or after the soft pretzel?" Richard laughed.

"Before." I love shoo fly cake even though a soft pretzel from Philadelphia is a very close second.

The 45 minute drive home seemed agonizingly long. Once I finally pulled in the garage, we raced into the kitchen, ripped open the pretty package and devoured the cake. Heaven.

The next night was baseball night, the Rays versus the Rangers. My mouth watered for the soft pretzel, the perfect baseball snack. I popped two of them into the microwave for a few seconds. Richard and I settled in on the sofa with our pretzels. I took a bite, chewed it slowly, tasted it's richness. Heaven.

We've eaten all the Philly food that fit in the carry-on suitcase. We're anxiously awaiting another delivery from the UPS man. Those ladies at the cabin are sending us a large box filled with shoo fly cake, banana bread and applesauce cake. And when it arrives... Heaven.