Some thoughts on cooking and life

I cook because I absolutely love doing it.  I find it relaxing and immensely satisfying.  It's more than a hobby; it's a passion.  I love preparing food, cooking food, eating food and talking about food.  Friends and rellies seem to enjoy what they get and that's a bonus.  Just the icing on the cake, really.

But sometimes something happens that takes it to a whole other level.

Wendywoo's mum, a lady I have come to love dearly, is a bit poorly at the moment and has been in hospital the past week or so.  She's been off her food and it has been so sad to see her in the hospital bed just not looking or sounding like her old self.

Wendy went up to visit with her daughter today as her mum's not up to a lot of visitors at any one time at the moment.  We superheated some of yesterday's stew and bunged it in a thermos cup (all we could find so we had to improvise!) and she took it with her in case her mum fancied a bite.  When I received a text telling me that she was scraping out the bowl I felt an overwhelming sense of well-being; not in a selfish way at all, just thoroughly glad that something I had done had actually made a difference to someone.

I, like so many, have had a life full of ups and downs.  But I'm happy with my life.  I'm with the person I want to be with, we have five great kids between us and a son-in-law and grandson that complete the picture.  Wendy's mum and dad live just round the corner and her two brothers and their families are close enough to see them regularly.  The dogs, cat and chickens are (usually) a joy to share the house and garden with and everything is generally rosy at Quincewood Farm.

But sometimes, in the midst of all that domestic bliss, life jumps up and bites you right on the bum.  However, with all that we've been through lately it was just soooooooooo bloody great to hear that Jen had actually eaten a whole bowl of food!