Cooking Wine

Tonight I sit with a glass of red balanced on my tummy.  I’ve sat here for a good 60 seconds watching it twitch back and forth with my heartbeat,  trying to decide if vinegar is indeed what I fancy.  Hmmm.  Cooking wine.  Who makes casserole these days anyway.

A couple of quick observations on Love and Life for you friends… sweet, sweet vinegar calls.

** My theory **

Is love not just connections forming between the nerves in your brain?
You meet them.  It goes well.
You associate their person, image and smell with a positive experience.
Every time you see something that reminds you of that experience…FLASH,  the connection gets stronger.
The more time you spend with them and are happy,  the more positive connections form and the more that form,  the more likely you are to fire jolts of embarrassing anecdotes into your conversations.  ‘Oh yeh!  My other half has a similar looking jumper,  it’s toasty huh!’.  You go for a walk and see a canal boat,  just like the one you saw on your second date (which was awesome).  A spark of consciousness goes from your walk,  to an image of your second date and hey presto,  he’s in the forefront of your mind.
You MUST love him.
When you loose them,  it takes time for those connections to disappear.  Some people force them to by removing stimulation,  removing the letter from under their pillow or the half finished bottle of white from the fridge.  Once those wires aren’t use any more they become fryable,  break and can’t be used.
You move on.

** My Questions **

Is life about things like, riding a bike, fresh air, chilli jam or seeing the sun rise?
People say if you haven’t loved and lost,  you haven’t lived.
Do we have to experience pain to have lived?
Is that what childbirth is about?
Does that mean the old couples dancing the funky chicken at their 75th wedding anniversary have missed out?
What are they lacking other than cynicism,  bitterness and a leathery skin on their heart.
Do they need to be prepared for pain if it isn’t guaranteed?
No.  Let them dance.  Lucky sods.


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