I was sitting with some friends, chatting over coffee and knitting, when the conversation turned to cooking. I don’t like cooking. Lots of effort to cook something that takes 5 minutes to eat. It just doesn’t seem to be a good use of time. I detailed how I hate to touch raw meat and I shiver in the presence of sharp knives. Especially big ones.
There is nothing in my childhood, or adult years, to explain it. I never fell into a vat of raw meat. I never cut myself on a knife.
I really don’t like knives. If you want to scare me, pull out a knife. Only got a gun? Meh. I’ll wander off and make some tea.
Anywho, I digress …