Rhythm

layed you on my breast
eternally pressed on my shoulder now
the days turn to longer days
the micromoments of me and you

the rocks; you rocked me
you expected me to be there, so i was
and we will never be so entwined again

your hands are bigger now
reach for more than before
imprints of us locked inside my jaw

you could cut someone with your eyes
you sliced me in half
i was looking up at the white ceiling
motionless; why did i want to do this again

rewind
splash on the floor
you dancing as you do
rhythmic and hard

you weren’t even crying
i wasn’t either
it wasn’t our romance yet

you would take and i would give
it felt endless, but there was a beginning
there was an end; there always is
now, you breathe the life into my throat

Photo Cred

Sipping Solstice Tea

I used to hold the dark, beaten bird in my hands, gripping it close to my heart; fearful of letting that tiny beast go. But tonight, as I looked up at the slice in the sky, I felt comfort by the ever fulfilling promise of metamorphosis. Of change. Of the feeling that it is only the beginning.

I sit in solitude before an udon platter and house sushi roll special; I feel my back stretch with dignity and pride. There may have been a time where the anxiety might have devoured me…eating in a restaurant alone.

Chopsticks in hand; I am fully embodying my self on this winter solstice. Halfway through, I realize I ordered too much Chinese food [can one ever really order the proper amount of Chinese food?!], and I’m not going to force myself to keep eating. I’m listening to my body’s voice. My voice.

I called on my babysitter tonight specifically to do some solstice ritual and reflecting. My conclusion: I’m proud of what this year has shown me about myself. Proud of who I am. May not be a revelation for some, but it is for me as the dark moon lays on a golden sliver above the small-town-America restaurant… I sit here with a stark acceptance of the darkness I have danced out of. I honor it as the traditional Asian flutes play overhead.

I used to hold the dark, beaten bird in my hands, gripping it close to my heart; fearful of letting that tiny beast go. But tonight, as I looked up at the slice in the sky, I felt comfort by the ever fulfilling promise of metamorphosis. Of change. Of the feeling that it is only the beginning.

Steam crawls off my China tea cup, and I pour myself another flowery round. I’m in no rush. Dammit, I deserve this tea. I deserve to enjoy it. I envelope the crux of my evolution as I take another sip. The discount wine on old, laminate paper to my left doesn’t tempt me. I don’t need a drink to validate me. I don’t need anything to validate me anymore. I just am.

The waitress delivers my fortune. Forgive the action, forget the intent; the words evaporate into the universe. Do you mind if I have an orange? One I will endow the bare branches with on my way out. As I bow down in sheer disbelief at the magic of this life.

Photo Credit

Kick that Cold- Grandmama Style

When my kid is sick in 2043, I want her to crack a smile when she remembers the extra snuggles she got and her mom’s special soup that remedied her ailments. Also, I want her to invite me over to her house to make it for her/snuggle/give me the 411 on her life…

Bone broth… liquid of the Gods. It was my daughter’s first non-breastmilk food!

This past week I fought off a DAC [daycare acquired cold] and it was difficult…basically, I had to pull out the big guns.

Knowing how to make a good soup should be a parental requirement. Don’t you want someone to make you soup when you are sick?

When my kid is sick in 2043, I want her to crack a smile when she remembers the extra snuggles she got and her mom’s special soup that remedied her ailments. Also, I want her to invite me over to her house to make it for her/snuggle/give me the 411 on her life…

This is semi-lame of me to admit…but one of my favorite books to read when I was younger was the Chicken Soup for the Soul series. It was my 10 year old version of a trashy reality show, but wholesome; because I was 10. I turned the pages…tear jerker after motivational story. I ate it up. I didn’t yet comprehend the true symbolism of the title, because I had never had a great homemade soup. My point being chicken soup is good for the soul… and once you make your own great chicken soup, you won’t go back!

What I like to do is grab a rotisserie chicken; eat some for dinner, and pick the rest
[or you can save your meat bones after every meal for a while, or chicken carcasses…you can freeze them for a later soup, you can use a few at one time.]

What you need for the STOCK + SOUP

  • A whole chicken
  • 3 Onions
  • 4 Carrots
  • 4 Celery
  • A few Potatoes
  • 2 tablespoons Apple Cider Vinegar
  • Bag of frozen peas, corn, carrots
    • Optional [and delectable] ingredients
      * Sweet potato
      * Bay Leaf
      * Any other root veggies
      * Kale
      * Garlic clove
      * Scallions
      * Egg
      * Tumeric
      * Ginger
      * Salt
      * Pepper

Dust off your deepest pot, put the bones in and fill it near to the top with water [the water doesn’t really matter, you can always add more, or cook the stock longer for richer flavor]

Toss in your onion, carrots, celery [potato and bay leaf if you have em] No need to get Top Chef here and chop anything into pretty little cubes… you can even throw in the onion whole, it will fall apart in the cooking process.

Pour in Apple Cider Vinegar. It helps extract the nutrients from the bones, and adds a nice acidity.

Once it’s boiling- stir + skim the muck off the top.

I let the stock simmer on low overnight while I’m sleeping with the top on.

You can simmer for 24 + hours if you so desire. 15 always seems like the magic number to me.

When you’re ready; strain out all the bones and veggies. I usually drink a cup like tea at this point.

Now is the time you can throw in whatever you fancy. Add the chicken you picked off and saved if you want…

I love to add kale, turnips, sweet potato, red potato, onions, and the frozen veggies.

Sprinkle in some spices. Ladle some up for you and your family and enjoy.

Now that I have a big pot of stock, I usually heat up each meal in a smaller pot so as not to reheat so many times.

For the tough sickness I couldn’t kick this week… I made an egg drop soup fresh each time. I chopped up some scallions, garlic, ginger and whipped an egg and tossed it in as it was heating up.

Thanks to my soup, I am now on the mend.