Sunday, October 26, 2014
Sometimes, this is as good as a day gets.
Sometimes, it's as good as a year gets. And that is not a bad thing.
If I could lift one good thing from this difficult 2014 it would be sourdough bread - the baking of, the satisfaction of, the good smell of, the chewiness of, thechestnuthoneydroppingthroughtheholes of. I made the first loaf in many months last night. The nights are cool enough to turn the oven up full blast, now.
I am very glad I can cook. I am glad I enjoy eating. I am glad people taught me how to make a table welcoming. As superficial as these acts of pleasure are, sometimes they feel like they are the only real things I can rescue from life. Along with gardening, or creating of any kind, for that matter. Life is horrible, and hard and I have no idea why people keep making more people, to perpetuate the whole damn mess. Someone once wrote that my book has no darkness in it. I had to laugh. Sadly. Because it is all about darkness. All the gardening, the cooking, the foraging, the flowers. My light sabers, swung and sliced at the darkness.
I'm not sinking into the abyss. Don't fret. It's inside me, always has been, always will be.
The most important question is: do I make mushrooms à la Grecque tonight, to eat with what we have managed not to consume of the wonderful bread, or a mushroom soufflé ?
Soufflés are powerful light sabers, too. They defy the abyss. Its the air in the egg whites.
What would the Frenchman like better?