A Mighty Fine Pumpkin


Who goes past oblivious and uncaring? Who goes past preoccupied? Who takes a brief glance and continues on? Who stops to watch? Who discusses and invites? Who makes a special pilgrimage? Who is inspired to create by the creative offering?
Photos from last week of Doug Aiken’s Song\1 at the Hirshhorn.
Went out into the backyard despite (or perhaps because of) the freezing rain. The greens had a thin coating of ice, but were still bright. Picked big handfuls of mixed asian greens, arugula, and chard. The ice cracked off as I picked them. Later in the morning, I will saute the greens with tofu for a nice brunch. I have dough rising for pizza for the neighborhood solstice open house. I think about making crackers.
Tomorrow, some of the greens growing will be frozen food. I’ll make an italian bean and greens soup with those leaves. When it gets back up to 50F, which it is supposed to do within the 15-day forecast, there will be new growth. The chard just might make it all the way through the winter. The arugula — it’s less likely.
This bush was full of tufted titmice and sparrows. They were all simultaneously chirping with excitement.
I imagined some of them agitated and anxiously saying of the unseasonable warmth hat it was not normal and something needed to be done.
The rest of them were loud drunks on the spring warmth. “Life is short. Enjoy what has come.”
Perhaps there was one truly wise bird who was saying that both of those are true and that recognizing both truths was a door to harmony.
It still does not seem right to have daylight savings time start before the equinox. I remember it used to be the first night I cooked outside. Now it is always too cool and not quite light enough, and my morning meditation goes back to finishing before it is light. Whether it matches with the weather or my mood, though, it is here this weekend. I’ve had a much more intense work week than usual, which is resulting only partly from having been out of town for the previous week. The coming weekend promises to be very full (assuming all goes as anticipated) with teaching my own class and studying with Ross Rayburn up at Willow Street both Saturday and Sunday, trying to go out to see some friends dance Saturday night, going to the contact improv jam on Sunday, and then having dinner with neighbors.
To try and not get too off cycle by getting a socially induced equivalent of jet lag, I am starting to get ready for bed an hour early tonight and planning to get to the office before 8 tomorrow morning. Try doing the same things you would do if changing time zones. Get plenty of rest, drink lots of fluids, keep down the caffeine intake and if you really want to have caffeine, make sure you stop drinking it earlier in the day than usual; have any protein in the morning and then dine lightly on grains and vegetables in the late afternoon or early evening. Don’t eat anything heavy at night. That way you will have energy when you wake up too early and be sleepy when it is time to go to bed way before you think it is.
And most important, use the change in time as an opportunity to celebrate the respective joys of shadow and light by having extra attention brought to them whether you will it or not. It is always exciting the first night, particularly if it is warmish and bright as is in the forecast, that it stays light unnaturally late.