Food is starting to become somewhat of an issue.
I dislike cooking and at times even hate the whole idea of cooking. I tried for 17 years to come to terms with the daily task of planning, shopping and cooking a meal. I tried being inventive, new recipes, colorful cookbooks, crockpots, everything I could think of, and rare was the day that I actually enjoyed cooking. I am much happier just eating beans straight from a can.
I did make my first attempt to cook over an open camp fire this past weekend but even that felt more like a chore than a pleasant experience. This cooking thing and I are just not meant to dance together.
Chelle has decided that the workampers should meet on Wednesdays when none of us are working and share a meal together. I think this is a great idea until I realize they actually expect me to cook something for these meals. I am great at bringing a bag of chips or hummus to these types of gatherings, but begin to hesitate when there is talk of appetizers and dessert and I know they won't let me get away with chips and a jar of salsa. They seem to think it is just a matter of making something "easy", when for me nothing about cooking has ever been easy. I have told them for my turn I want to order pizza and have it delivered, but they are already telling me these "easy" meals I can make. The other four people love to cook and cannot begin to comprehend what it is like to loathe the mere thought of cooking.
As all my friends before them have eventually figured out, I do not like to cook, will not cook, and for my turn, there will be pizza delivered, or beans straight out of the can.
Here are pictures of Chelle in the kitchen, her husband David, and their foreign exchange student from Bangladesh.