A Girl’s Gotta Eat (aka: There Goes My Last Excuse)

I’m not boring. Truly, I’m not. The problem for you faithful readers is that I’ve realized this is more than a diary. If you people with terribly busy lives who have deemed my blog important enough to squeeze in to your allotted 1,440 minutes per day remember, which I’m sure you do, I realized last Thanksgiving that REAL people are REALLY out there reading this. (Hi Chuck and Betty!)

Life ain’t always pretty, and I have to be careful about what I casually throw out there.

I mean, it’s not like I’ve been arrested or anything else humiliating, but come on, life is messy, and personal. Right? So, somedays, the really interesting days, when I’m aching to blog about Life’s Lessons, I don’t. Other days, okay, most days I probably am boring. The days when I sit at my computer, never breath fresh air unless I walk my dog (and that’s not very fresh), those are the days I create my best work, but it goes into my novels and you can’t share the excitement until my work is published. (Soon, I hope!)

But back to the subject at hand. My oldest son is 26-years old now. I don’t consider myself a great cook by any means, but for MORE THAN 26 YEARS, it’s been my “duty/job/responsibility” to cook dinner. I was married once for 15 years, single for 5, married again for 7 years now (Hi, honey!), and I’ve done almost all the cooking for those 26+ years. AND I DON’T EVEN LIKE TO COOK!

Some of you out there must think I’m crazy. I shoulda…. Yeah, well, I didn’t. Granted, my husband and I now eat out 2-3x/week (yea!) but the other 4 or 5 nights, I cook. I’ve always done it cuz I’ve always done it.

Well, this past New Year’s Eve, my husband and I were sitting at home having a nice, quiet, peaceful, non-drunken dinner (Scallops with caramel-orange sauce, asparagus, and quinoa), and we were talking about our goals for 2011. I said, no surprise here, that I wanted to write more and be published. I must have also mentioned something about the time I spend cooking… and know what my incredible husband said to me? He told me that I don’t have to cook. This was over a nice dinner; it’s not like I served him mac ‘n cheese or anything. I’ve kinda gotten good at this over the years. He said that as long as the two of us can sit and relax and talk, he doesn’t care where the food comes from (takeout anyone?) or even if it’s frozen pizza. Who knew?

I know, I know, there are MILLIONS of men and women out there right now screaming, Girl! Wake up! Why have you been cooking all these years if you didn’t want to! It’s about time!

So, I’m not boring, just slow. I cook because my family needs to eat. I can, therefore I do. Kinda like putting together the furniture for my youngest son’s first apartment last August. (kindly see the post dated Aug. 24, 2010)

HOWEVER, even after my husband said I don’t NEED to cook a nice meal, the following night, I made Braised Cardamon-Curry Lamb Stew with a hearty loaf of focaccia bread. Tonight was broiled beef tenderloin, roasted squash with brown sugar, and chipotle-spiced corn.

Turns out, I WANT to eat good food at home. I don’t want cereal for dinner.

There goes my last excuse for not writing more.

Now, what’s for dessert?

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