IB stopped cooking because she could no longer sequence. Her kitchen is stuffed with cookbooks. She was a member of the cooks of America group. To date, I have been excited to have her placing slices of cheese on home made pizza.
A few days ago, I made braised short ribs for the first time. IB asked if I was going to make gravy. I told her I had never made gravy...I could have knocked her over with a feather. She told me to save the drippings...that night, we would make gravy.
We started just after 5. She was in the breakfast nook, I was in the kitchen. When she smelled the drippings starting to steam, she made her way into the kitchen. Within minutes, she was in front of the stove, spatula in hand, asking me to ge this, measure that, pour more, scrape that, wait some more, don't be shy....it was awesome. She's done enough exercising now to be able to stand for a while without her walker, and I was amazed at her stamina. Sequencing was spot-on, her face was so focused...what a treat for both of us.
Good food. Good exercise. Good sleep. Good lovin'. This is posted in the front room. It is our motto. Look what it unfolds.
