I had a big batch of red quinoa. I made it earlier today to have in an asian greens salad with blueberries, habenero ghost pepper jack and lemon ginger seseme dressing.
So for dinner I whipped out the quinoa and shredded the habenaro jack into it, followed by generous dollops of pesto, 3 torn up turkey slices and some chipotle aioli. I mixed it up w/ a fork and thought I was going to heat it, but ended up loving it at temp. Though I think it might be good with the cheese melted in by heating.
Quick meal or side and yummy. Slide scale of proportions as you like for taste and consistency.
If life were like a map laid out before me
i would still pick the stars to press my pinpoint into
and watch it unravel the fabric,
more brillant with every indention
evidence of my absolute intentions
and my penchant to aim straight for perfection
One pinpoint can hold my map up on the wall
why do so many take it out and watch it fall?
After a wknd prep of many meals for T’s wks away, I found a smidge of Stonemill’s artichoke, jalapeño & parmesan in the fridge.
To bulk it up I added some:
Bold-n-Gold Moosetard: Alaskan Mustard
Avocado Mayo Oil from Chosen Foods
First I tried it with
then corn chips
then melted on toast in the toaster oven.
I liked all the versions.
This is one of those no dishes, easy recipes.
Add all the ingredients in one place, mix it up and voila!
I donated my old slippers because I didn’t like wearing them. I also thought I had a pair waiting for me at my other house. But when I journeyed there this weekend, found none and felt a faint tingle in the back of my mind, “oh yes, I donated them too because I didn’t love them”. I am trying to get better about shooing things out of my life that I don’t heartily enjoy. This new habit I’m trying to form has left me slipperless.
Shopping is fairly torturous to me, I avoid rambling around looking for things. I don’t have a lot of belief that anything I will cherish is manufactured in bulk. Thus, when I am disproven it is usually the result of a gift. Fortunately in this instance I stumbled on a work around.
I went looking in my yarn bin for materials to make a crocheted Trotro doll for my niece’s X mas present around the same time I was experiencing slipper loss and just starting to warm up the cabin by woodstove heat.
Years ago I did my student teaching in New Zealand and I still remember the day in the market that I bought some virgin wool. A woman named Nicole made me her confidante. She was in a quandary. She said she had started to raise a few sheep to have wool for her projects. She said she had been naive, she didn’t realize they would multiple so quickly. She promised herself when there were 15 she would find a solution to keep the numbers low. She repromised at 20. She said she now had 30 and couldn’t think of having the lambs slaughtered, but couldn’t kill the old ones either. What should she do, she asked me. Me, a twenty something from America, I had no idea what to say to her. Her wools were soft and varied. Creams to greys and browns and rich charcoal, I could imagine this beautiful flock and the impossibility of trying to decide between them. These are materials I can love. I bought a variety, and way more than this non-consumer could concieve of. When I got it home to my place in NZ n realized my bags were full and I was to depart in a few days I realized I would have to wear it to get it home. I crocheted it into a long sleeveless cloak with a big pocket and traveled home encompassed in the heart of the land of NZ. It stayed that way, for years, I had never intended to keep it in that form, but somehow it remained and went on many more travels with me. Finally a few years ago I set to the task of taking it apart and finally, they are anew
(1802refound, first publish)
The Ocean Knows
Where Oxygen Begins
Outside the Confines of Your Skin
You Shake, Subside and Come to Rest
Without it beating in your chest
Forgive this unwanted description
But for us each, it’s an affliction.
life is near
between the streams
of consciousness and dreams
The more you surround yourself with belongings, the more of the environment you control. The less you own the more environments you experience. ( maybe like many things, this is only true in some circumstances. It just occurred to me while traveling how much more I was experiencing by not having.
Still, realizing real life pauses are important.
My mind speaks
“We can never represent it accurately”
My hand is pressed, cold palm to forehead
My fingers nestle deep in warm hair,
curve their nails lightly into my scalp
like waves of the ocean, brush by the tides.
But my eyes pause,
draw themselves closed, clothed, contorted overload of the land.
light, too bright, when I remember outside is night.
New moon, too soon leaves the room
slides by, hides, so sly.
Sulk, slack, sit unseen.
Impressed with yourself for not wearing Maybelline.
It’s so obscene, you’re so damn lean.
Forgotten serenity, the entity of totality, til I’m almost ill.
Still, realizing real life pauses are important.
Pen poised, patient, prepared for the perfect timing to touch the paper,
to express a thought worth thinking (doesn’t happen a lot)
inking, indecodable, quotable quips.
Quick trip for some, an “oh yes, fun” then they “have to run”
always jump the gun… not saying I’m never one but what do they do once they are done?
I’d want a refund, but realize I refused to retrain my brain to refrain so I’d abstain~
Written 2002, Dec. 10th
sadly structures rarely represent realistically
rarely represent realistically
most meaning whittled away
and poorly placed
*refound, written in 2001.