I startled awake.
No moonlight. Must be after one. My head instantly cleared.
Penny sat up in a rush. “It is!” she cried.
I was already out the door and halfway across the patio, the Airstream kitchen filled with smoke, the cat yowling at the nearly closed window. Maybe that’s what woke me up in time to avert the flames but not the brutal smoke… smells like a slaughterhouse fire… or a war sans cordite.
I snatched the door open and was slammed by a flying cat and a wall of smoke. The dog’s soup transmogrified by accidental alchemy from chicken carcass, sweet potato, and greens into greasy black, sticky, seriously stinky smoke over about 5 hours time on a low flame..
Sorry Amos. It’s a raw egg and yogurt with your breakfast kibble.
We left a burner on and went to bed. That simple.
We got away with it. This time… Barely.
On the good side…
We needed to build a better kitchen anyway. Canning and baking or cooking large on that trailer stove has been a nuisance from day one and they must have designed the kitchen sink and counters for people who always eat out. We, on the other hand, put up several cases of canned fruits and sauces and so forth, dry our own herbs and peppers and such, and cook and bake like the dickens.
And I needed the mental and physical exercise of designing and building something. Sitting around is a dangerous pastime. Leads to doddering. No doddering, thank you. So this is good. And we both love the new kitchen. Check it out:
Still a work in progress, but it works! See those peaches and pears on the bottom shelf? The five jars of relish on the top shelf? the ristras of Padron peppers hanging? Come on by and I’ll make you something nice… Like
Flank Steak with Papalo Sauce
My daughter recently discovered an ancient Central American herb that I’d never heard of… Papalo, and with said papalo and a lovely flank steak and several other well chosen ingredients, built a clean marinade, invented a brilliant sauce and prepared her old dad a most delicious and memorable meal, probably impossible to duplicate, except that, fortunately, her recipe published recently at trueself.com
I’m going to practice at it until I get it right.
Wish me luck and check out that recipe. This sauce would be great on anything from vegan burgers to steak tartare to green beans to quinoa… I’ve had it on salmon, flank steak, tomato/fresh mozarella salad and by the spoonful… Yeah.
IF I CAN’T GET PAPALO, I will substitute 2 parts cilantro, 1 part arugula and a splash of blood orange juice for papalo in the recipe. It isn’t papalo, but it works.
One (at least) Liners of the day…
“If love isn’t the answer, rephrase the question.”
“You want a better world? Be nice.”
“The law of the jungle is not dog eat dog. It’s adapt or die.”
Which brings me to:
“aging in place”
Drifting happily toward dissolution, I note wear and tear… crumbling just a bit at the rub points and edges; weakening just a little here and there, then getting stronger again… Then an ordinary task becomes slightly more difficult. A little memory thing happens.
Then another and another until one happens with large consequences.
We already know we’re going to forget stuff so we set timers. But that only works when you remember to set the timer and are near enough to hear it when it rings and you aren’t wrestling a weed eater or some other noisy gadget. And that’s not going to be every time.
We’re very active people. We have a busy ceramics studio. My wife is a well loved teacher. We have a big garden. We live on a small farm on the knees of a very large mountain. We work. We play. Shit happens.
Mostly good stuff happens. As the fabric of this human gadget thins and frays, it also lets a light into me from a vast, quiet source beyond my usual knowing that smooths my thoughts and widens my smile. I love it. It is so pleasant to experience more presence and its attendant calm.
Concurrently, I am dissolving like a dewdrop in the sun or a good idea in congress. Beauty surrounds me. So does death. I have lunch with somebody. By dinner he is no more.
We elders keep half an eye on each other… It’s ridiculous. Invasive. Unnecessary.
Except it isn’t. It’s just good practice. Part of our adaptation. We adapt until we can’t… I like adapting, being awake. I see people giving up. Bad idea. Keep growing. Fill your life with living. Learn something good every day. Do lots of good stuff. Stretch. Stretch your body. Imagine your mind expanding, knowing more, loving more.
I want to age in place alright; every place I happen to be at in the moment as healthily and happily as possible for as long as it makes sense! If you don’t have a way that you freshen and enliven your whole body and mind at least most days, go to Pilates or QiGong or something to get the hang of it, but move it! We elders have a lot to do yet unless we want to go to one of those warehouses, sit in a wheelchair watching 50’s re-runs and taking meds or an equivalent of that. Our country is in the shit. This is no time to bail, folks. This is time to gather our wisdom and become ever more wakeful and responsible.
That’s what I think.
This bowl is called “Instability,” something that happens in dynamic waveforms when the amplitude or frequency of the energies producing them increases or decreases… In this case, the blue wave form can be seen as either coming into the array or leaving it…