I am slowly, painfully, clawing my way out of sickness and hopefully on my way to recovery. This is by far the worst I’ve had it, and I’ve had my share of UGH in the past few years. I am thinking about seeing the doctor, even though I’m getting better because I want to know if there is something at the root of all my sickness. I also want to start cooking, even if it’s just simple things. To that end, I bought gluten-free pasta and gluten-free spaghetti sauce. Yeah, I know it’s not really cooking, but I have to start somewhere. I want to say, it’s not that I can’t cook, but that I don’t like cooking. At all. I don’t like the prep work. I don’t like having to watch everything. I don’t like cleaning up after myself. I don’t like how you get such limited output for such copious input.
As I’ve mentioned in the past, I have found that I own a slow cooker. It’s from the seventies by the drab olive green looks of it, but my brother reassures me that it should still work. I like the idea of just throwing a bunch of stuff into a pot, walking away, and letting it do its magic. I’d probably start with a simple stew and then work my way up from there. Once I actually make it to the co-op (on my way to taiji), I’ll buy whatever I need to make a gluten-free, dairy-free stew.
We’re supposed to get a few more inches of snow tomorrow, which is just the icing on the cake for me. We ended up getting over fifteen inches of snow, and I’m deliriously happy about it. Here’s a better of Prince singing, Sometimes It Snows in April.