Apron Time

First I must transform, getting into a comfortable pair of jeans and typically a T-Shirt, along with my  simple black apron. I find the perfect pandora station. (Currently Etta James) I turn on my oven, I organize my ingredients and I begin my zen-like prep trance.

When life is spinning and I feel myself losing control of the grip, my kitchen brings it back. I am able to slow myself down and enjoy the pace that is so rarely found in my civilian life.

I am able to create simple dishes or classic masterpieces, and its all up to me. I use my instincts and a vague recipe as my guide. I am at peace.

I am in a meditative and calm state of mind.

To create something beautiful and simple, yet intensely complex on my own terms and for my own taste is to create my happy place.

No one else in the world can bother or interrupt my apron time. This is the time I make for myself and this is the time I need. This is my therapy and my love.

To have the knowledge and skill set to be confident with most recipes is a gift I’ve been blessed with and worked hard for.

I am able to create exceptional combinations which blend together like magic to create a stunning end result.

As much as I would love to share these creations with someone other that my husband, I am glad I have this time to myself.

My pots and pans don’t care what my opinion is on the political disaster that is our country, or what outfit I chose to wear that day.

My oven is dependable, I know all the hot and cold spots inside of it. It is consistency that I can rely on.

With my kitchen, I have the ability to stop the world from spinning , my world that is.

 

 

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