“Cat”
We lay in that bed one sunny evening after making love
and decided to name our first girl Cat, we were going
to name her Cat, but now we have departed forever from our
love-making, and we will not have a little girl, nor any
children at all, and I am doomed to become the poet
in your dreams who falls continually like the evening rain.
— Richard Brautigan
Get lost.
My family tells me that they consider me their ‘food’ person – that my ideas and attempts inspire them to learn more, or make better decisions, and cook good food. This makes me feel good. Being in Burlington, I meet people every day who inspire me in this regard, most I am intimidated to even get into a conversation with. Sometimes I feel like I am one of those people who have yet to move past the ability to spit out what I read (…what’s the word?)
No matter – there is no need for me to find more things to feel guilty about. Tonight I spent probably 2 hours in City Market, 40 minutes of that conversing with a yoga friend who is also my inspiration to buy a juicer.
What all these people have in common is their attempt to be aware of their actions and decisions – in this case, regarding food, and what they put into their bodies. Ingesting is necessary, it is a requirement for life, and I think good, healthy food is a requirement to fulfill our humanness.
I am reading a great book right now called “Gardens; An Essay on the Human Condition,” by Robert Pogue Harrison. I know, heady. Did you even make it past reading his name? Though scholarly and dense, there are some simple ideals in there I found and love.
He reflects on a photography book by Margaret Morton called “Transitory Gardens, Uprooted Lives” that features gardens created by the homeless or destitute in New York. Rather than creating some kind of shelter, which we would assume they would be in more immediate need of, these people create gardens, a place of repose. “A sanctuary of repose…is a distinctly human need, as opposed to shelter, which is a distinctly animal need, so much so, that where the latter is lacking, as it is for these unlikely gardeners, the former becomes all the more urgent.”
We need good food like we need transitory gardens – our animal need can fulfill itself simply through the ingestion of calories, but our human need must be satisfied through healthy choices. Choices good for our body, community, world and yessss SOUL. We must utilize and satisfy our consciousness.
And don’t worry, I’m not a super food freak…yet. I believe comfort food is just as important for our minds and bodies as any spirulina shake. We’ve just got to find some kind of balance and consistency…I’m on the search.
There has been too much coming and going.
I’m reveling in my aloneness here, your aloneness there
a bit crazy and wild-like
endless opportunities
for me in this 1200 square feet
of alone.
I am not really referring to the leftovers Thanksgiving turkey supplies us with.
I spent twice a much on a large breast (get the giggles out) for Jamie and I – locally and organically grown not far from here – as it would cost to buy a whole turkey from Price Chopper. I was reaffirmed in my decision after seeing a slide show about where Butterball turkeys come from, how they are conceived, live, and die. I wish I had inclinations to become a vegetarian, but I’ll save that for my next, further enlightened life where I can survive on mostly air.
So I spent about $60 just beginning to plan our dinner for two, when we found out we have other friends in town – chef friends. Who won’t allow anyone else to bring food. They’re doing that to be wonderful, perfect hosts…so well, I guess we’ll have our second supper on Sunday. Truthfully I was not completely organized, and I did NOT want to be trampled in the grocery store riot tonight – the night before Thanksgiving.
Back to the ‘spend more, eat less, buy local’ argument stuff. I narrowed my reasoning down a bit. We’ve all heard the gory details about tortured animals, the agregious amounts of pesticides used on our veggies, or even hormone influence growth in all of the above. Here’s a more philosophical thought:
Not unlike the cannibal ideal, who desire to eat human flesh to gain the strength of their enemies, I desire to eat locally grown, sustainable, organic or handcrafted foods to infuse myself with positive energy and ideals of the farmer or artisan.
Every living cell holds a different story, knowledge or strength – life has scribbled a different note on each one, and I want to eat poems.
