About three weeks ago I wanted to cook something. I looked on the counter. I looked in the fridge. I came to a conclusion: “I don’t have a single onion in the house. What is my life coming to?”
Now most people would think, “So what? Ya ain’t got any onions. Just go buy some more.” But the thing is. I’ve always had onions. Like, I’ll buy more before I run out. And then they just stare at me from their two separate bags (because of course I buy them in bulk). It is the staple of almost every single dish I every learned to cook. It’s probably just a south Louisiana thing. I’m sure my mother in law doesn’t use onions every single day. I’m sure she wouldn’t have a moment of self-doubt if she found her onions were no more.
I’ll blame my lack of onions on the move from one city to another. Yeah, that’s it. Everything was just in a state of upheaval. Boxes of stuff in two separate apartments. Driving almost everyday back and forth. At one point, Husband stayed in the new city with his parents and O and I slept in the apartment in Mössingen.
Now we’re all sleeping at the parents’ house in the new city. We still can’t use the sink b/c the dishwasher isn’t hooked up. I’ll have picture of my stupid new kitchen to explain that story on another day. But things are getting a bit back to “normal” whatever that means… I bought onions. There’s not much else to eat, but we have onions.