No More Liver and Onions

I swore this would not turn into a food blog. My second thoughts and the idea of serving a cookie for breakfast and baked in the reality that I have always sifted the thought of writing a cookbook since meeting my former and present husband, Greg, who taught me how to cook liver and onions. If that sounds like a run-on sentence it probably is, and so also is the desire to be a good cook and to write about it.

The liver and onions is not a metaphor, it was one of Greg’s prime dishes. The sweet aroma of sautéed onions waffling up in the BOQ, followed by the immergence of thin, fleshy organ meat, all cooking away in a cast iron skillet. That was the start of my desire to conquer the art of cooking and relationships. I studied it. I wanted to make it work. I even tried oxtail but to no avail. People sent recipe books for wedding presents so I did have help.

We stewed our lives together in a do-it-yourself house with two children, several dogs and a cat. My skills improved. The heat of the cast iron skillet still on the stove, melts the butter, and I am free to throw in the ingredients, some that cook fast and a few that refine themselves very slowly creating an irresistible taste.

wait for the moment
stepping out of the kitchen
to eat a cookie

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No More Liver and Onions

Rain Making

We camped in the rainforest

Olympic Mountains

trail blocked by wind fall

blown out fir trees

yet we found our way

pitched tent 

built campfire

and ate

The tent was small

no rainfly 

in the night

the sound of water

my husband making rain

__________________

dVerse quadrillé prompt on rain

Rain Making

The Road

rains came

sometimes only a drizzle

or a pouring out all day

slope of the terrain meant it would not pool

rather it made a tiny groove in the crushed gravel

 

winter came and it rained and rained

groove went deeper into the road until it was a rut

Now tires might get stuck

a flash flood would wash it away

that would keep the people out

the road needs maintenance 
_____________________

dVerse prompt on the word groove – I have too many roads that need maintenance 
 

 

 

The Road

Cup

Why is it so difficult to serve the cup of kindness or drink from it?  The cup of cruelty still being offered up around the world as I sip my coffee and read The Post.  Today’s headline of officials charged and the president fumes with frustration.

Now I want to measure my kindness in cups.  A half cup of kind word.  Three quarters of humility mixed with a cup of understanding.  Maybe I can find a kinder way in a sometimes cruel world.

Be kind for the day

All resonants from within

Learn to give and take
_________________

dVerse prompt haibun on kindness

Cup

Condition of the Soil

I have been away one year short of a decade.  There is lots of gardening to do.  It is not that a man can’t tend the garden.  Yes, men can mow, turn the soil, weed whack, uproot the invasive blackberry, chop up the fallen trees and fill the wood shed.  In a little corner plant some vegetables and prune the fruit trees.

 

My touch calms the plants, brings nourishment and mulch to their roots.  Old blooms are removed, dead branches clipped.  I tend to little things.  See a bug before it eats the whole plant.  Build a nursery bed and let seedlings grow.  Know the life cycle of a common weed and notice the small wild dogtooth violet and try to cultivate it.  Go beyond the obvious and hope he remembers.

 

force beyond control

found knee deep in the garden

speak of little things

Condition of the Soil