Day 43 (to lock-down)
Everyone bakes all day. Do not say that you do not, at the end, each of us has sinned with some raisin bread or stuffed cheese. For us, the baking business was not a big deal until recently. Frankly, I – I have nothing to do with the oven. It just does not work for us. It has never worked and will never work (Everyone recognizes their shortcomings at some point in life). But my partner is good at cooking and baking. The thing is that men cook when they “feel like it,” when the muse inspires them. I’m not complaining, God bless him, my partner continues to earn our breads by working remotely but he has this privilege to come back to the living room from his little desktop and declare that the wind has settled on his spirit to bake some brioche. While I am totally unable to enter the kitchen anymore. As the days go by here inside the house, the kitchen sight brings more and more allergic rash to my skin, or in simple words – I hate it, and when I get out of here, I am mostly happy to be away from it.
Yesterday we had terrible fights – one was a morning quarrel and the other was an evening quarrel. In the morning, it was not his fault. I just got nervous on him because I didn’t get my weekly excursion to the supermarket. In the evening, when I had already gone to the supermarket, I returned at eight and the house was as if in the middle of the day – celebration! Total mess! My beloved husband was heavily occupied with baking a Crostata pastry and my dear daughter was sprawled with the tablet, watching garbage. It was eight in the evening! School starts at 8:30 the following day with a delightful Spanish class online. I felt my face turn red with anger. Why am I the only policewoman in this house, and it’s not coming easily to me, I really eat a lot of straw on the way.
At the end it did not help me, after all the shouting and nerves, I completely melted… The Crostata was a pleasure for the palate.