just two hours away
the storm grows heavy
the trees bash the sky
with great bales of wind
and the unlikely spout
of an ice cream van
burbles “jingle all the way”
down a childless avenue
in the first week of April
in the middle of the day
the dove falls silent
with her rooftop forecast
my body sings with tiredness
as my thoughts take cover
even napping now and then
in a lullabye of weather
Too tired to grocery shop and not in the mood for fast food, this is what’s for supper tonight. It’s a lighter soup for a warmer evening.
Yes, this soup is almost entirely from cans. But it’s probably still healthier than drive-thru.
Canned field peas are hard to find lately. These are *not* blackeyed nor crowder peas, but probably an Austrian winter pea, also known as a dun pea. They are currently my favorite legume and when I see them on the shelf I get half a dozen cans. I particularly like Allens or Texas Fair.
2 c. sliced smoked sausage
1 c. chopped onion
1 can field peas with snaps
1 can chilies
1 can diced tomatoes
1 can chicken broth
1 t Cajun spice mix
1 t cumin
Saute the sausage and onion together in a small amount of water until the onion is soft. Before lowering heat, add tomatoes and chilies and stir well for a couple of minutes to prevent sticking. Lower heat and add peas, broth and spices. Simmer for 30 minutes.
Do a taste check before adding additional salt or spice. Both the sausage and the peas will add salt and occasionally chilies will add a little fire.
I was watching an episode of “Grey’s Anatomy” last night and I laughed out loud. I really did. All by myself with no one to hear me. It kind of surprised me, not only because that hasn’t happened in a long time but because I hadn’t realized that until just then.
It means I’m healing. My prayers mean something. Faith pays off. And I can trust my process.
Letting go has been so, so hard. Trying to understand the importance of self-nurture and what that looks like has been a struggle. And I don’t mean splurging on frozen custard or a spa day, but true self-nurture: resting when I’m tired, cooking the food that I love in the way that I love it, saving up for and purchasing things that I really need instead of running up my credit card buying things just to satisfy an urge.
Then there were the trickier parts of this: turning off my phone at night so I get the sleep I need. Taking a whole day off to be a goddess of the hearth. Tackling small projects a little at a time instead of planning grandiose outcomes that will exhaust me.
This all seems like really simple stuff, but I know folks in recovery can take a long time to figure it out and some just give up. So I want to say to those folks: don’t give up. Even when it hurts. Even when you feel stupid. Even when you act like an ass. Just keep going. And someday, all by yourself, you really will laugh out loud.
So I have a regular gig about four times a year, spending time with Gustavo. He is an Italian greyhound who thinks he is actually reincarnated 17th or 18th century royalty. I haven’t quite pinned down the family yet, and I believe his demise was quite violent. Hence he has alarming separation anxiety in this life.
However, he must have laughed a lot with his friends and family. Stav has a great sense of humor and is the life of the party. He’s a little subdued right now, because he’s trying to remember where he’s seen me before. But it’ll come to him eventually.
So far it has been a bittersweet reunion. We are both grayer and calmer than the last time I was here. We both take more supplements with our meals. He is positively portly and waddles when he walks. I have acquired a muffin top from excessive use of chocolate to get me through the recent breaking news and subsequent long hours with CNN.
But somehow the heavens and the Mother called a truce with the calendar and gave me a glorious first day with Stav. The sun was brilliant on our walk and the breeze just right, free of impertinent insects and subwoofers. The sidewalk felt like carpet and my feet seemed to skate along the few blocks of our route.
I wanted more. I wanted to abandon work and throw my phone into the bushes and walk with Stav until we could walk no longer. But his folks left crab cakes in the fridge and experience has taught me I will eventually want my phone back. So we’re back in the living room, sitting in the quiet that’s as rich and thick as cream cheese frosting.
It is enough. I am content.
I’m blessed with work and the discovery of a new site called Listia, which is like eBay for barterers. So I’m destashing/dejunking and occasionally finding something I really want in return. But the graphicist in me desperately wants to tweak my look here and add some pics. *sigh* Maybe later…