dangerous compassions

I call you / from the comet's cradle

Sunday, July 12, 2015

big cook

Ming's doing all the chopping.  Right now he's doing the three huge bell peppers.  Last night he did the seven white onions.  And seven carrots.

A friend advised me to put ginger in the beans and it would mean less gas for the eaters, which I don't know if I believe, but we happen to have a ton of ginger.

We need to clean out the fridge.  We need to do a lot of things for our trip.

My Spanish studying has fallen by the wayside, which is sad.  I was telling a friend that I don't want to be the person who does the first ten pages of a workbook and abandons it.

Maybe I can bring it with me and study in Sacramento.

Last night's meeting was great, and then our friends went out into the desert for a big all-night party with drumming and dancing and a bonfire.  We came home where Ming sorted the rocks out of five pounds of pinto beans so kindly.

I am not anxious at all about this big cook, and I don't know if I should be.  Maybe my body is not worried because everything went so well last month.

But there's a lot to do.  Ten pounds of potatoes need to be chopped, for example.  It will take almost an hour for the beans to come to a boil on our wimpy stove.  We need to pick up the kale and do that, do the rice.  Do all the garlic.


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