at 4am, i woke to the sound of winter arm wrestling with spring and its lingering warmth. the clouds rushed past a crisp wolf moon...this morning, so cold in hampton. wind blessed every piece of skin as i ran to meeting...later my husband and i ran errands and on the way into the house he says, "this is the weather for a good stew." i nod. i measure the contents of our fridge in my head.
i come inside and pull everything out, fill silver pot with water, seasoning salt, dried red pepper, dried rosemary, sage, tumeric, onion...as i cut i find myself thanking the potatoes and the cabbage for its white heart, i take a bit of the turnip and sweet orange of carrot, dropping them in the already seasoned and boiling water...a half of green bell pepper? never added that to my winter stews, but why not. and a can of creamed corn. can of peas. a dash of cumin. lastly, as the smells rise and their faces turn and leap in the now soup, i add a can of tomato paste...stir with wooden spoon i've had for twenty years, as long as i've had my daughter...this is what i have time for in my life. writing. cooking. praying to things and people who give back to me a goodness i couldn't have withing knowing them...this is what i have time for, a peaceful friday afternoon, sun on my fingers jealous of chilly kiss of the day, and my house smelling like i imagine my grandmother's would if she cooked a special stew for her husband without taking measure of things, but with the health of the world in mind.
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