Marinara

on a stool in my Nona's kitchen sitting watching there was no food channel it wouldn't have mattered she had no television she was our Italian Julia Child on a stool in my childhood i would watch my Nona cook without words without recipes a pinch of this and three bay leaves for the trinity as time passed before Nona passed she passed a rooted plant to my Mum which grew and then before my Mum passed she passed some of the same rooted plant to me which i planted now walking in my backyard smelling the fresh scent of Nona and Mum's kitchen i cut without measurement or recipe the needed amount i know i need oregano