Away, away

There is nothing left in the fridge, but Jonathan is waiting until tomorrow to do the shopping, so that he and Ferdinand will have something to keep them busy. I am leaving tonight for Italy. They will get pizza for dinner.
It is one of the hardest things about going away, about leaving Ferdinand–not being able to feed him, to see with my own eyes what he eats, that he is eating, that he is fed. It has nothing to do with reality, because of course he is fed and loved and taken care of every minute that I am away. It’s just what happens in my head.
Make a lovely cake. Soft and absolutely tender and flakes of coconut falling wherever they will on top. Fill it with lemon curd and serve it with tea in china cups. I always think of coconut cake as a gentle kind of dream that steals a mind away if only for a minute.

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