Last night I made dinner. Which would not be a big deal if cooking was something that I did for kicks (or even for other people who depend on me to do it). Cooking for kicks is Joe’s department. But he’s in DC hunkering down for Snowpocalypse.
When it’s dire — and I’m sick to death of dining out or snacking — I occasionally cook in my small kitchen. As in “I have to open the refrigerator door to lower the oven door and then contort my body around the two to get the food out of the oven” small.
It was kind of a gag. Evidently, I made the off-hand comment, “Why in the world would you actually USE as a salad spinner.” And not long after she found a super cheap one at T.J. Maxx. I’m now a believer. It’s a fun gadget.
I realize that news of my cooking doesn’t shatter the Earth. But at least I wasn’t sitting in my chair thinking about what I should do next. I did something. And then I told you about it.