Thursday, December 30, 2010
The tree is naked, I bared its branches yesterday and put the ornaments in their boxes and took down the nativity and put it in a box and trotted everything up the stairs and into the closet in the bedroom which hardly anyone ever sleeps in.
Evil Santa, too, although he is not in a box, but stands at attention in the closet (is he gay when he's in the closet?) and that's a bit of a scary thought.
Not sure where my heart is today. Hanging on the wall with a bear and a star hanging from it, right next to the spices- as good a place as any.
Last night I made The Perfect Supper. I wish I had pictures. I thawed out some snapper that Mr. Moon caught awhile back and I let it rest in some Mojo with the juice of one Clementine and then I ground pecans with Panko and flour and salt and pepper and coated that Mojo'ed snapper and placed the fillets in a pan and adorned them with thin, thin slices of lemon and cut pieces of green onion from the garden and baked it.
It was perfect in all ways.
I made tiny green beans and potatoes, and with bread, that was dinner.
Mr. Moon was so happy. He said, "I will wash every dish in this house for that meal."
We agreed- it was gourmet. And please understand- in my house, gourmet can mean really, really good grits.
I ate some cake leftover from Christmas and it is delicious but I think today I must give it to the chickens along with brownies also leftover from Christmas and it's time to get that stuff out of the kitchen, out of the house, no more in my body. Such sin to waste such food but really- what is it if I eat it and don't need it? Another type of sin.
No. Not sin.
In Spanish, the word sin means without.
Sin sal, I say when I order a margarita in Cozumel. Rocas. On the rocks.
I love the way those words feel in my mouth as much as I love the way the drink tastes.
Margarita, por favor. Sin sal. Rocas.
Here's the funny thing- I can imitate a Spanish accent when I speak Spanish, leading people to believe that I can speak Spanish when really, I can only say things like margarita, please, without salt, on the rocks.
My tongue just knows how to do it. It's like it shifts its position in my mouth to Spanish mode and the words are formed by that and they come out sounding good.
And then the brain curls up and there is no more use for that tongue except for when I say, Gracias, Senor. Muchas gracias.
Sin. Without. I think that is a good definition of sin.
People without clean water or a warm place to sleep or someone to love who loves them.
Without enough food.
Without food for the soul.
That is sin. Maybe. A mortal sin is when the without leads to death. Simple as that.
Death of the body, death of the soul. People can die from lack of love as surely as they can die from lack of food.
Full of withouts. Not to mix my languages, my metaphors or anything.
Boy. I'm fucking cheerful today, aren't I?
Well. Here's Miss Mabel, helping with the cake problem.
Look how lovely she is with her blue-black feathers.
And while I had the camera out, I took some pictures of a tiny woodpecker at the feeder. The birds are swooping in and grabbing a seed, then flying off and letting another bird take its place. Very busy at the feeder this morning.
I should get busy too. Owen is coming today. I will not be without love. Nor will he.
The chickens will not be without cake.
The birds will not be without seed.
The Christmas tree, however, is without ornaments or lights.
My tongue is without need for Spanish.
My heart is not without the knowledge of the blessings of this life.
Trying to keep sin down to a minimum here on this, the second-to-the-last-day of the year in our arbitrary keeping-of-time.
My hands smell of spices from crumbling cake with them. My heart probably smells of blood and is not filled with sin.
Yeah. Something like that.
Vaya con Dios. (I said that out loud as I wrote it and my mouth is smiling.) And oh yes- this- I read in a book by Jimmy Buffet that one New Years he was partying hearty in a country where Spanish is the language and he kept saying what he thought was Happy New Years! but in fact was saying Happy Asshole!
Okay. That made me laugh.
I hope it did you, too.