A poem from the other side

On Love: The end of a marriage, Indian curry, and The First Two Pages of Frankenstein

I’m making Indian curry and I’m home alone. It’s rare that I have the whole house to myself and what I really want to do is sit outside in the sun and read. But dinner has to be made and I’d much rather make it alone than with my almost two-year-old son hanging around my legs, requesting me to play George Strait songs. I’d choose just about any country …