Sunday was our fourteenth wedding anniversary. Written down, that sounds like an enormously long time. Certainly I find it hard to believe there was ever a time that I did not know Claire. Yet our first kiss, where I stuck my nose in her eye, feels like yesterday. Time is strange.
Fourteen years is worthy of celebration, and how better than a bottle of strawberry wine to a meal of Greek Baked Lamb (which was the first thing I ever cooked for Claire). Both food and wine were as excellent as ever, and we followed our meal by watching a remarkably silly episode of 'Midsomer Murders' - a DVD I had bought earlier in the day as an anniversary present. Who says romance is dead?
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