Isn't he lucky?

While I know it isn't the 1950s anymore, I love to cook and there is a satisfaction I get from serving  my man a yummy, home-cooked meal. Sure, we still have some convenience foods like frozen pizza, but I usually cook at least three times a week. 
Until the past week or so. In the last 10 days, all I've cooked is bacon and eggs for breakfast. Other than that it's been things my family has received and sent home with me, leftover grilled hot dogs or anything we can unearth. In addition to being extremely unmotivated, J has been working to haul hay and I'm not cooking that late at night. Plus I've been driving truck and helping pick up some bales too. 
You want proof my man is the luckiest alive? Here is what he enjoyed for supper last night:

Pair that with a glass of milk and a peanut butter sandwich and you've got a meal. 
J must think he's got the greatest woman in the world!

To re-enter the cooking scene, I have a feast planned for tonight! My homemade meatloaf, butter potatoes (leftover from the funeral meal), corn and crescent rolls. 
Yup, I'll be working out tomorrow!

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