I just had the sweetest moment.  Irv is in the kitchen "popping the drumsticks" which is what we call the process of severing the huge tendons in a chicken drumsticks, so that they're tender bites of chicken, and resemble lollipops when cooked.  Anyway, he's in there doing that, and I wanted to keep him company, because I love keeping him company in the kitchen. Sometimes, I just sit there taking in the sounds and vibe. It's relaxing, I feel loving and loved, in those moments.  The smell of chicken was a little too overwhelming though. Since pregnancy, the smell of raw chicken has always tap danced across my gag reflex.  That, and watching him sever tendon after tendon was giving me empathetic chills.  Anyway, I begged off, and returned to my chair the living room.  Soon after, I became mesmerized with the gentle whackthump of the knife hitting the cutting board, and the soft reggae.  I sat back in my chair just sort of floating my psyche into the kitchen, and I gained the same sense of peace and solidarity that I would if I were sitting right there with him.