If It Is Not Too Dark

Sunrise walk with Tom - Kauai

If It Is Not Too Dark

by Hafiz

Go for a walk, if it is not too dark.
Get some fresh air, try to smile.
Say something kind
To a safe-looking stranger, if one happens by.

Always exercise your heart’s knowing.

You might as well attempt something real
Along this path:

Take your spouse or lover into your arms
The way you did when you first met.
Let tenderness pour from your eyes
The way the Sun gazes warmly on the earth.

Play a game with some children.
Extend yourself to a friend.
Sing a few ribald songs to your pets and plants –
Why not let them get drunk and wild!

Let’s toast
Every rung we’ve climbed on Evolution’s ladder.
Whisper, “I love you! I love you!”
To the whole mad world.

Let’s stop reading about God –
We will never understand Him.

Jump to your feet, wave your fists,
Threaten and warn the whole Universe

That your heart can no longer live
Without real love!

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The Layers

Passion Fruit flower - June 2010

The Layers
by Stanley Kunitz

I have walked through many lives,
some of them my own,
and I am not who I was,
though some principle of being
abides, from which I struggle
not to stray.
When I look behind,
as I am compelled to look
before I can gather strength
to proceed on my journey,
I see the milestones dwindling
toward the horizon
and the slow fires trailing
from the abandoned camp-sites,
over which scavenger angels
wheel on heavy wings.
Oh, I have made myself a tribe
out of my true affections,
and my tribe is scattered!
How shall the heart be reconciled
to its feast of losses?
In a rising wind
the manic dust of my friends,
those who fell along the way,
bitterly stings my face.
Yet I turn, I turn,
exulting somewhat,
with my will intact to go
wherever I need to go,
and every stone on the road
precious to me.
In my darkest night,
when the moon was covered
and I roamed through wreckage,
a nimbus-clouded voice
directed me:
“Live in the layers,
not on the litter.”
Though I lack the art
to decipher it,
no doubt the next chapter
in my book of transformations
is already written.
I am not done with my changes.

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Ode to Tomatoes

Ode To Tomatoes ~ by Pablo Neruda

The street
filled with tomatoes,
midday,
summer,

These were warm from the Sun when we ate them. - July 2010

light is
halved
like
a
tomato,
its juice
runs
through the streets.

Beauty on the inside. - August 2010

In December,
unabated,
the tomato
invades
the kitchen,

We roasted these for sauce. Yum! - September 2010

it enters at lunchtime,
takes
its ease
on counter-tops,
among glasses,
butter dishes,
blue saltcellars.
It sheds
its own light,
benign majesty.

Tomatoes so bright, I gotta wear shades. - August 2010

Unfortunately, we must
murder it:
the knife
sinks
into living flesh,
red
viscera

Cherokee Purple/Brandywine - September 2010

a cool
sun,
profound,
inexhaustible,
populates the salads
of Chile,
happily, it is wed
to the clear onion,
and to celebrate the union
we
pour
oil,
essential
child of the olive,
onto its halved hemispheres,

Happy Tom making kitchen Magick - September 2010

pepper
adds
its fragrance,
salt, its magnetism;

Lots of fresh cracked pepper and coarse salt. - September 2010

it is the wedding
of the day,
parsley
hoists
its flag,
potatoes
bubble vigorously,
the aroma
of the roast
knocks
at the door,
it’s time!
come on!
and, on
the table, at the midpoint
of summer,
the tomato,
star of earth, recurrent
and fertile
star,

an extra ripe "Green Zebra" - August 2010

displays
its convolutions,
its canals,
its remarkable amplitude
and abundance,
no pit,
no husk,
no leaves or thorns,
the tomato offers
its gift
of fiery color
and cool completeness.

time for a BLT! - 2010

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…Seven Potato More…

Well, It seems like forever ago since I started the posts about the potato experiment that my friend Kenny and I were going to do over the summer. Things got busy and complicated and we have all been taking care of business. I have a few minutes before I close up the office for the day, so here goes the update. You can click on the vegetables/potatoes category to your right if you want to see the previous posts.

From Kenny:

“Much to my disappointment my potato harvest has been rather pathetic. I found one white potato and zero blue potatoes.

The White Knight

The one Idaho spud I tossed into a pot and pretty much ignored, did provide several little fingerling potatoes…those were tasty!!

Idaho spud-in-a-pot

French Fries, we need French Fries!

I think the problems were the high heat we had in Arizona this summer. Many days were over 110F! The potatoes in the raised beds just couldn’t handle all the heat all the time The beds didn’t even get a chance to cool down at night since even our nighttime temps often stayed in the upper 80’s to low 90’s.”

Thank you, Kenny! I’m sorry you didn’t have better luck with your spuds, but I remember trying to garden in Arizona and every time you plant something you just have to hope for the best against the weather goddess. Here in San Diego, we had one of the coldest summers on record and my potatoes did really well, for which I can thank Mother Earth since I was busy at school while she took care of everything…

Let me just say I was assuming the absolute worst outcome with this experiment! After planting mine, I got busy with school and work and didn’t check on the garden for long stretches at a time. One day Tom said he saw potatoes under the apple tree and suggested we dig em out. Part of me didn’t want to see that I had a bunch of raisin-looking spuds that died in the shadow of my abandonment. Bad Mommy! Anyways, here’s what we found under the apple tree:

August 2010 - French Fingerlings

Pink Potato Happiness

…and there was an honorable harvest out of my plastic buckets:

Buckett Potatoes

my fabulous assistant!

My thoughts:

* the potatoes under the apple tree were the best and I didn’t even plan those – it’s where I tossed the leftover pieces! I will assume that direct contact with Earth had something to do with that.

* the buckets were great but they took up a lot of patio/sidewalk space and were not pretty to look at – not a big deal though

* the plants never actually bloomed, which was odd and the reason I had no hopes of finding spuds…seems a miracle to me

* the small fingerlings did well and were tender and delicious, buttery too…I wonder if the type of potatoes that we each planted had something to do with the success rate? perhaps I’ll try bigger ones next year, although Tom says he really liked the little pink ones.

Next year, I will definitely be planting more potatoes since these were gone in a couple days, and next year I won’t harvest until I’m ready to eat. We dug these up all at once because I couldn’t stand the suspense, but they will last a little longer under ground than in a basket on my table.

French Fingerling harvest - August 2010

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