The Wonderful World of the Kitchen

I offered to make dinners everyday but Wednesday and Sunday. (Really I wouldn't mind making meals Sunday, but it seems like people generally eat dinner while I am at church, so that wouldn't really work. Wednesday Janardan and I have a presumable date night, though we often end up going swimming instead of out to eat, so Wednesdays I could cook still generally). Anyway, so this week I have been making meals pretty much every night. Monday night, I think, I made dinner and Art said, "That was nice." I really didn't know how to gauge his reaction. I was flattered, but also confused. I didn't know if like...Carol had told him to say something nice and so that is why he was saying it, or if he really thought it was nice, or some weird manipulation.

Tonight, though, it became a little more clear. He asked me what was in the various things I had made today and yesterday, seeming interested so he could duplicate them sometime. And then when he was getting up from the table, he said, "That was nice. Last night too." Then he couldn't stay serious too long, "What's for dinner tomorrow?" A joking question (though of course if I had an answer he wanted it). So I told him, "Potato Soup." Anyway, it made me soo happy that he liked what I had made, and was interested in my food. Like...Art is the person in the family that I most respect, and who I most desire admiration from. So him appreciating my food made me very happy.

I was so excited. It made me want to start meal-planning, and so I ran into my room and got my computer, and was like skipping back out into the living room. So I was actually enjoying spending time in the common area where everybody else was. People dispersed pretty quickly, but I got a plan done for two more weeks of meals, without repeating any meals thus far. So if variety is desired, variety will be had.

On another note, I recognized this morning part of the reason that I hole up in my bedroom throughout the day. Janardan and I had gone out to the family room, and were enjoying a nice quiet morning. Then his mom came out, and it was fine having her out there too. But a few minutes after she was out there, she turned the tv on, and it ruined my enthusiasm for the morning. It was no longer quiet, and there was no longer the opportunity for the sharing of nice conversation and sharing of space and time. So in conclusion - there is too much tv in this house. Like...I like television. I like watching shows and whatever. But having the tv running just to have something to do at all hours of the day...well...I don't like it, but I do understand it. Before we all moved in here, Carol was pretty much living here by herself when Art was gone all the time. And there is a lot of quiet to fill in with noise. But I think she is missing out on what she could be having now, and could have been having for many years before, by having the tv on as much as she does. I can't ignore it, and so I can't stand staying out there for a long time. It like kills my brain.

But for now, I am happy.