Making dinner

I enjoy cooking.

Today I came home already feeling a bit run down, the shopping wasn't done yet, lots to do, gotta go out at seven, time is short… One of those days. Oh, and since Laetitia's going to do the shopping, I have to make dinner too. And there's almost nothing in the fridge to make it with.

Rummage around for ingredients. Change my mind a couple of times about what to make, based on what I (don't) find. Oh, and when the shopping comes back there'll be things to put away, too.

But once I actually start cooking— I dunno, I just start to feel better. Is it the smell of the spices? The frying garlic? The soothing action of stirring the pan? The sound of the onion sizzling in the warm oil? Actually I think it's as much the creativity: God the Creator has made me in his image, and I thrive on making something out of—well, not out of nothing; out of the raw ingredients that God has made.

And by the time dinner is ready, I'm feeling much better. I enjoy cooking.