February has been one of those odd months where the shortest month of the year has seemed eternally the longest. Simultaneously feeling tired of winter and longing for Spring whilst also not wanting time to go too fast because moments are fleeting. Trying not to pay too much attention to the outside world lest it bring your feelings of the doldrums a bit too low.

So, my counteraction to the languishing persistence of February has been of the domestic variety: I’ve been in the kitchen.

Making, baking, chopping, dicing, oven mitt in hand, apron tied around my waist. Doing it all and feeling better for it.

I have heard that cooking is the cure for what ails you, and I have to say, whomever said that was not speaking falsely. Seriously, there is something about creating delicious and flavorful food and when your family agrees and comes back for seconds, that is the proverbial icing on the cake that I made.

There is a method to my culinary creating. I get my music going first. Usually 1920’s and 1930’s music, think Duke Ellington and Ella Fitzgerald kind of tunes. Then I put my apron on and I swear this makes all the difference. Tying the apron just puts me into a different zone and ready to create. Also, aprons prevent items from getting all over your clothes. Get tomato juice accidently on your white shirt once and you too will be an apron convert.

And then I get to work.

This month I have made different breads and soups and even made quiche for the first time. As a creative person in my everyday life, it would make sense that being creative in the kitchen would also bring me peace. I enjoy that sense of accomplishment that comes with slicing into something I have made and my girls saying, “Ooooh, Mommy can we have that now?” and them being excited about partaking of what I have made. Sometimes they help me, especially my four-year-old who likes to get the step stool and help me pour ingredients. It makes my mama heart so happy.

There is less than a week left in the month that only holds 28 days. I am looking forward to the calendar page turning. But until then, I’ll be in the kitchen listening to Ella scat-sing, and cooking up a new creation.

All is right in the world.