“Mom?” said my eldest, as I retrieved tomato sauce from the cold storage room.
“I’ve noticed you’re starting to cook again. I really love it.”
This is what happens when you spend the month of October in a netherworld of perpetual illness. But then you emerge, and make dinner, and a few people notice, and are happy.
Perhaps my rendezvous with October will be better next year.
Meantime, I made it through. Let’s eat, peeps.