The Mixing Bowl of Life

I didn't mention Kate much in my last post. Kate likes to cook, knows how to cook, understands that feeding people means far more than putting food on a plate. Watching Kate in the kitchen, so comfortable in her task, I drifted into reflection.

maybe having wine at hand is the secret

Food, in my childhood, did not become associated with love and pleasure, rather the opposite. When I cook there is a vague unease to which my neural pathways stubbornly cling.

Here I could bore you right off your perch about brain plasticity and childhood stress but let's not do that instead I'll amaze you with my coping skills.

-Kate and Will, my daughter L and her husband M, my sister and sister in law, brother in law and husband are all happy cooks. Let them have at it, I'll find something else to do (and I don't mean the dishes).
-I love baking (if the house is quiet and I've plenty of time), something about the stirring and kneading and rolling is soothing, so this can be my contribution in the culinary dept.
-my mother in law was a master of the domestic arts and a lovely human being. When I wear one of her aprons in the kitchen I always feel better. I just hope my blankie/apron will last as long as I need it, which is forever.
-I'm good at others things so if I need some self validation I'll go there.

Well, now that is off my chest, back to digging holes for the honeysuckle and silver lace vines, watching Mercury transit its way across the Sun, rigging up shade covers for my cool weather plants, and appreciating the beauty in my own backyard.

“Look not mournfully into the past, it comes not back again. Wisely improve the present, it is thine".  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow