cros-posted from the livejournal because I just haven't had found spare seconds to write these days, but have so much to remember.
x8-------------------------------8xLast night at dinner I watched the crumbs of goat cheese melt into sweet red sauce and I remembered the surge of freedom of my first meal in Paris, after the Sunday market had closed, goat cheese from a farm not twenty kliks away and tomatoes that burst redder than the dyed scarlet of the innumerable cans I'd carried home on a student budget.
Last night I spoke to a friend, sitting cross-legged and speaking from the heart the way I am slowly learning to do, here in the great 'heartless' city. Not so heartless these days.
Today I nodded and took the physiotherapist seriously when she explained that my pseudo-heroic jaunts added months to my convalescence each time I hurt myself. I drove home sitting straight and careful and promising myself that I'd stop the heroics for a certain patient husband's sake.
Today I ate curry and discussed puns and various forms of word art, today I broiled red snapper for dinner with spicy kale and potatoes mixed with parsnip. This morning I spent three hours carefully tending weeds and preparing my garden for winter. The gaunt, half-frozen skeletons of tomato plants are firmly packed into the compost bin and mulching away.
Tomorrow I will wander the market with a dear girl that I met whilst eighteen sheets to the wind on St-Patty's day in Montreal, both sober, she with her son and me with my potential. We will compare the plumpness of peppercorns and infuse every inch of space with bright exuberance.
This evening I just wanted a piece of poetry.