“Do you know," Peter asked, "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.” ~ J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

4.19.2014

recipes for life. 101a.


recipe:
one piece dark chocolate.
preheat morning to 68°.
add sunshine and breezes just cool enough to make you appreciate those flipflops and bare arms.
mix in birdsong and overhead trees going green,
blue skies, white fluffy clouds, an ice cream vendor's bell - yes, even in the morning.
let the chocolate melt on your tongue and lie back under the beginning of the day.
roll up your shirt, exposing white belly.
close your eyes.
when the cat meows close to your face, reach out an arm and feel the warmth of her fur.
keep your eyes closed.

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the easter bunny is driving a ford pickup this year and made an early visit,
arms full of dark chocolate and a pink stuffed bunny,
telling stories sweet enough to make me cry.

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there are weekends and then there are week ends.  the ends that stand on their own, the ones that erase all the days before.  this is one of those.  this is one that says not only is spring here, summer is coming.  this is one that sends us out for buckets of paint to welcome the rooms to a new season, sends us out for steak dinners and imaginings of new spaces.  we feed our souls and our bodies and our inner artists.


yesterday was bees.  again.  a certain someone stood at the creek's edge - close enough, he said, and that was just fine, him being only 10 and full of memories of wasps' bites, but i had to walk a few steps closer.  i'd missed the first swarming a week or so before, saw only photographs, and never expected a second chance, but yesterday morning there they hung, a few yards from their original colony in the catawba tree.  the second swarm chose the exact resting place that the first swarm had chosen, an apparent magic limb on the ginkgo tree.  i spent all day wishing on daylight stars and lucky stones that i would see them fly away, praying to the queen of bee gods and the god of christians, and my prayers were answered.  i was there in the late afternoon when the tree suddenly began to quiver, a heat mirage of flight - they were up and off and they were flying.  a sky full of bees.  feeding my soul.   a taste of joy.

recipe:
one piece of nothing.
turn the day up to 80°.
add one cup of ice and old rolling stones songs.
toss in laughter and silence.
shake.
do not stir.

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at the asian food market this afternoon, duck eggs.
boil for 30 minutes, the woman said,
and eat with your eyes closed.

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10 comments:

  1. thank you for sharing your magical writing, with us...

    tessa~

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    1. the thanks goes to you for reading. and coming back. it is much appreciated.

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  2. Oh, my ... this was like going on a little day trip :D

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    1. !!!! that is exactly what i was hoping it would feel like. you made my day!

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  3. the dark chocolate, the sunshine on bare skin (in my case..feet finally free of winter boots and hunting socks), good recipe. the duck eggs?? not so much ! definite eat with eyes closed, but still i think the
    throat would know and rebel ..

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  4. that sounds like my kind of cooking. and oh, i love that you got to see the bees leave, that sounds so incredible.

    Happy easter! xoxo

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    1. oh. you shoulda been here! it was the best! i did a little dance around the yard. :)

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  5. The way you weave words is awe inspiring - I love the flow of them and dream of creating images as you do. Thank you for sharing.

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  6. This is poetic deliciousness. I could really appreciate the ice cream bell, bees in flight, freshly painted rooms, & everything else. Thanks for sharing your awesome recipes and refreshing photos. :)

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come. sit under the emma tree & let's talk. i have cookies . . .