But What Is Life?

 Pomodoro without fresh parsley

  Beautiful parsley in the Autumn

 Poor parsley covered by thick snow this morning

It was 4am, I no longer want to sleep, dragging myself to the kitchen I again swallowed another of the magic pill. Back to our dent, I woke hubby up and asked for conjoined (it is our own word for a kiss), he gave me a quick smack and back to sleep. I tried waking him up again, but is to no use. I shall just let him continue with his sleep. There was no moon to watch, everything is being covered with thick snow. It dawned on me how much I don’t like this season, it gets me down, it is such a metabolic depression time, and as much as I am used to it, I simply don’t like it.

After more than an hour of snow watching and anticipation of anxiety, I decided that it is better for me to go to the kitchen and cook something. Yeah, I have this habit of liking something for a period of time and then I will not want to hear of it anymore, and at the moment my craze was for spaghetti pomodoro. Can you imagine that, cooking pomodoro at around 5 something in the morning.

But what is life if you cannot make it exciting and unpredictable, for predictability is the same as being elusive and boring.