Four buckets of water
Two loads of laundry.
Sweep the nights remaining chips of wood fanning out from the stove door. Cedar dust.
Dishes, something that is forever on my list, we like to eat, and I like to cook.
Cook.
Tonight I have a Jamaican style bean medley that Raene brought. She says she has no time for such slow cooking.
I'll add chicken or bacon and make some chapatis. Sour cream on the side.
And it's a bread day. Save some dough for fun things like cinnamon buns. Fats loves to make those. Mostly though he loves to eat them.
Burn that which needs to be burnt. We're not talking cooking or baking anymore.
Garbage. Burn the garbage.
Then wipe down the house with sunshine till it's basking.
Wash myself, Oh this is not really a list. Wash my mouth out.
Keep the home fires burning.
The radio on about local gin and vodka.Not for me. Instead, let me taste some lavender in the beer. Have you tried that local beer? Have you tried to make your own?
To hear the morning show's host give the weather details, you'd think it was cold out there.
Give me local mittens and toques.
'Cause it is. Minus 20.
Wind chills, it's all the rage
Biting shrieking shrills. Eat you up in seconds.
Sample tonight's feast, sadly not from here. Cheap oil a-la- king.
Should not have got on this flight tonight. Sham-wow organic lettuce, California style. That's the taste of Not From Here.
Home is good. Yours or mine, but home.
Was he cold? Did he dress? Where were his slippers?
Did he bring his cat?
Not tonight, not yet, I had no invitation.
Still, I invite, a need to finish my list.
Come when the sun is warm, planting.
Warm your face and tell me stories.
Close your eyes and breathe.
We are the same, you grew into me
Pull don't push
Love don't laugh
Pause don't cry
Breathe don't die
-Tammy
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