This warm autumn moment
crisp, sunny, dried leaves chacha to the song of the breeze.
The sky burns bluely.
This warm autumn moment
a boy asks why people gather.
He asks if they discovered gold.
This warm autumn moment
the leaves are the gold,
the boy is the sky,
& I am the chacha to the song
of the breeze.
22 September 2008
18 September 2008
Waves of Tomatoes
Waves. The nature of Nature often flows in waves--inward and outward, or repeating Herself. This truth washed over me this summer, not at the beach, but in my vegetable garden.
The cherry tomato plants I bought in May seemed innocent enough. But they became a virtual explosion, with waves reaching out and reverberating across half of my garden. The chard & basil were overshadowed by them, and the butternut squash would have been overcome too, if I hadn't returned from vacation soon enough to cut back the tomato tidal wave to give them sun and space. The small supportive cages I'd put around the plants before my trip were easily overcome and covered with branches, leaves and the repeating pattern of tiny yellow flowers.
Those flowers were arranged along the growing edge of the side branches. As they were fertilized and bore their fruit, the tomatoes themselves also ripened in waves, the most inner growing and ripening first. The tiny green globes grew to be that cherry size and then ripen into the red tomatoes we all know and love. And it was over abundance. I couldn't pick them fast enough-- some of them ripened but split. Whether this is a "condition" or just a usual course of events for cherry tomatoes is still unknown to me-- I'm too busy keeping up with the plant, along with the zucchinis, to search it out, for now.
I had to do major pruning of the tomato plants but felt that sadness of wasting all those green babies that hadn't yet ruby-ed up. So I found a recipe for pickled green cherry tomatoes, bought some canning jars and tried 6 jars of the stuff. Now, after the time of fermenting, they taste like---pickles shaped like green tomatoes. Yum--I love them. My family, fearing my inexperience at such a project and less in love with pickles, has shunned them. Oh, well, more for me.
And wow-- they do green up over time if you leave the green ones together. Magic gases are released from them and they help ripen each other. So somedays I didn't have to trek out, just grab what I needed for salads from my ripening bowl. And as I continue to prune my plants, as they continue their slow motion explosion, I can now save those unriped ones for later use.
Soon the waves of summer tomatoes will subside. But I'll still have some of my pickles to remind me of them, as I plan my garden for next summer-- with more room for tsunamis of tomatoes.
The cherry tomato plants I bought in May seemed innocent enough. But they became a virtual explosion, with waves reaching out and reverberating across half of my garden. The chard & basil were overshadowed by them, and the butternut squash would have been overcome too, if I hadn't returned from vacation soon enough to cut back the tomato tidal wave to give them sun and space. The small supportive cages I'd put around the plants before my trip were easily overcome and covered with branches, leaves and the repeating pattern of tiny yellow flowers.
Those flowers were arranged along the growing edge of the side branches. As they were fertilized and bore their fruit, the tomatoes themselves also ripened in waves, the most inner growing and ripening first. The tiny green globes grew to be that cherry size and then ripen into the red tomatoes we all know and love. And it was over abundance. I couldn't pick them fast enough-- some of them ripened but split. Whether this is a "condition" or just a usual course of events for cherry tomatoes is still unknown to me-- I'm too busy keeping up with the plant, along with the zucchinis, to search it out, for now.
I had to do major pruning of the tomato plants but felt that sadness of wasting all those green babies that hadn't yet ruby-ed up. So I found a recipe for pickled green cherry tomatoes, bought some canning jars and tried 6 jars of the stuff. Now, after the time of fermenting, they taste like---pickles shaped like green tomatoes. Yum--I love them. My family, fearing my inexperience at such a project and less in love with pickles, has shunned them. Oh, well, more for me.
And wow-- they do green up over time if you leave the green ones together. Magic gases are released from them and they help ripen each other. So somedays I didn't have to trek out, just grab what I needed for salads from my ripening bowl. And as I continue to prune my plants, as they continue their slow motion explosion, I can now save those unriped ones for later use.
Soon the waves of summer tomatoes will subside. But I'll still have some of my pickles to remind me of them, as I plan my garden for next summer-- with more room for tsunamis of tomatoes.
08 September 2008
Contemplation on Belly Fat
Why is it so terrible to have belly fat? Maybe Ameria is preparing for an upcoming emergency and we need the stored fat to survive. And same with sunshine on the bare naked skin - without sunscreen. The skin cancer police want us to slather on chemicals which for all we know contribute to skin cancer years down the line. AND now we are all deficient in Vitamin D -- the little time many of us spend in the sun has been cloaked by sunscreen, leaving us vulnerable to bone fractures, coronary problems and cancers (besides skin cancer). They sell us sunscreens and then osteoporosis medicines, statins and chemotherapy. Mmmm - very profitable.
Yes-- I want to live a long and healthy lilfe. But do I have to believe every health bulletin that comes along? It's only when I'm too busy or too unsure of myself, plus exposing myself to the harmful rays of the media that I take in that bullshit. I have never been into sunscreen. So for me to now buy into "the studies" about excess belly fat making me a likely candidate for heart disase and diabetes -- well, enough of that negative expectation. It's fear. Fear of being like my grandparents, my parents. Fear of not being attractive. Fear of death or disability.
I actually like my heavier, more womanly body, after I adjust my wardrobe to fit. How many women don't get a bit more belly with age? And one of my heroines, Susun Weed says it helps with menopause to have 10 lbs of extra to help with estrogen production when the ovaries ramp down.
OK-- so is this denial or am I standing in my own truth?
Yes-- I want to live a long and healthy lilfe. But do I have to believe every health bulletin that comes along? It's only when I'm too busy or too unsure of myself, plus exposing myself to the harmful rays of the media that I take in that bullshit. I have never been into sunscreen. So for me to now buy into "the studies" about excess belly fat making me a likely candidate for heart disase and diabetes -- well, enough of that negative expectation. It's fear. Fear of being like my grandparents, my parents. Fear of not being attractive. Fear of death or disability.
I actually like my heavier, more womanly body, after I adjust my wardrobe to fit. How many women don't get a bit more belly with age? And one of my heroines, Susun Weed says it helps with menopause to have 10 lbs of extra to help with estrogen production when the ovaries ramp down.
OK-- so is this denial or am I standing in my own truth?
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