To everything there is a season.

Ms. Tola, seasoning in terms of a cast iron skillet, means treating it with oil so as to carefully and lovingly build up a non-stick layer over time. Beloved is a master at cooking with cast iron. His collection of skillets and Dutch ovens is every bit as impressive as my yarn stash. He has won prizes for his Dutch oven cooking in the past.

One does not wash a cast iron skillet like an ordinary pot. One wipes it out with a paper towel, rinses it with extremely hot water, dries it on a still-warm burner, then wipes down the interior with a thin layer of fresh oil. This gets rid of any food residue, sterilizes it, and prevents rust.

The cast iron and the knives do not go into the dishwasher. Got it. He deals with the cast iron pots. I carefully wash the knives with soapy water, rinse them thoroughly, and put them back on the knife rack hanging by the sink.

But yes, he is also having fun cooking with the skillet I brought into the marriage. He has used it three times this week, which is probably as much as I had since buying it.

Had a little financial nervousness overnight. We made a payment on the lesser credit card yesterday, and while it showed up on the credit card website, there was not even a hint of a pending transaction in my checking account when we went to bed. As I showered this morning, I had visions of an extremely sticky conversation with my bank later this morning, imagining the dismay of some other bank customer at finding a nice chunk of change missing from his/her primary account.

Whew!

This is the part where I blow-dry my hair and head out to the kitchen to see what lovely surprises are on the breakfast table. Oops, this is the part where I go eat breakfast and deal with my hair later. He just called me to the table.