Last weekend, I had a headache
so I sautéed two yellow onions
and a half pound of baby
portobello mushrooms. This
became a lovely tomato basil
sauce that lasted until yesterday.
I asked her to pick a pasta from
my assorted pasta cache. Our
pantry annex is on shelves in
the utility room. The pantry in
the kitchen is big enough for
basic stuff like peanut butter,
olive oil, vinegar, cereals, etc.
The things you grab every day.
The overflow in the annex has
paper goods, canned stuff, soups,
rice, pasta, etc. Cookies are out
of sight so they stay out of mind
in my old wooden bookcase with
half glass, half solid creaky
doors. Trips are made from the
big room to the bookcase with
some regularity for a serving of
two cookies. Being the old tech
writer that I am, I enjoyed making
forms for her most of the day. In
Word, which is her preference.
They were fun for me. Boring is
good. Tonight after dinner we
will return to a strange thriller
we started watching yesterday.
I’ve done all the typing I want to
do today; and all the cooking. So,
tonight will be a peanut butter
and jelly for me. Writer and alone
are synonymous for me. But don’t
confuse boring with peace. My
peace comes from a higher source;
peace that I can neither lose nor
explain; writer or not. Some things
are just that way. That, too, is good.
Still early enough for thermos coffee.
Poet, Writer, US Army (Retired)
I dreamed of writing when I was a youngster. The love of books and writing may have helped to dull the pain of severe sexual abuse as I was sexually abused by two men at my father’s place of work from age 8 to 12 or so. I learned about this for the first time when I was 50 years old. So, as a boy, reading was the only place I had to go to. My fantasy world was better and safer than my real world. I loved reading and writing.
Reading books and writing poetry are a joy to me still and are an important part of my life. (See my About Me page on my blog for the complete profile.)