I cook. I cook a lot.
When I was a kid, my mother had about 15 recipes she rotated through. I hated about half of them.
The glorious thing about cooking is that you don’t have to cook the same thing every day. You have a variety of options. And I choose to exercise them. It annoys the hell out of my husband. But then, what doesn’t?
The day started out fresh and beautiful, filled with promise, but eventually, the activities of the day burned it all down. I can’t go into detail. I’d like to. But really–it’s not the time or the place.
What I can express is that I have never felt so undervalued and unappreciated. Little actions speak volumes, and the volume is screaming around here. I bring great value to a lot of things I touch. I just wish every once in a while, it was appreciated.
Here’s to golden days. They are just around the corner.