An Introduction

We react to the word “slave”, by recoiling in disgust. The words: “First responder” or “shelter volunteer” make us feel good. In each case the needs of others come before their own.

Some are forced to be a slave to their job: some chained in the kitchen. The Fifties gave clearly defined roles. Men left for work and provided money. Women stayed home and provided comfort. I never saw it as “Man's work” or “Woman's work”, only that some adults made rules – others made dinners. Today the roles are the same, just not limited to gender.

Leading doesn't fulfill me like nurturing does, so I cook. It is more than a hobby, it is seeing my work comfort & sustain. My calling is to assist and support.

This blog is for any who wish to nurture with cooking, anyone who may also need to comfort and restore.

Wither you see me as “Miss Jane with a slave collar” or “June Cleaver with a strand of pearls” isn't important. Don't focus on me. Learn how to fix these meals, these offerings. Take ideas to help in your caring for another.

This blog is a tribute to one who has been a teacher and guide. I call him “Master Indy”. Give me the complaints but please the compliments should go to him. Without this leader I'd be lost and these words never written. This is my way to venerate Him.

Always His

“socialslave”