Common consensus is as consensual as common sense is sensible, yet both set as hard as concrete. Neither has any basis in reality.
I used to work as a chef in a chain Italian restaurant. I took the whole chef thing very seriously, and was very snooty about the whole thing.
We are in the process of trying to explore the possibility of – perhaps – attempting to persuade our local authority if they would like to, one day, conditions permitting, sell us a small plot of woodland.
I like a drink, and I always have. The problem is what comes the following day.
I suppose that I see most food issues as childish, and that is probably less than fair. Probably.
I cook alone, because I like to be in control of all of the processes. To be helped by someone would require far too much explanation of the minutiae of what I am looking for, for it to be of any practical benefit.
I just don’t see the point of making the bed after I get up. The Sisyphean aspects of the pointless task do not worry me; such is the nature of our miserable human existence.