Sometimes you just need to write*

I suspect this is true of most writers, whatever the medium. And though I am tentative of calling myself a writer as I do believe that “writers write” and, let’s be honest, I haven’t been doing much of that of late. I have embarked upon what could be a long project within the confines of my chosen professions and am hopeful that it will be the thing to prime the pump and get the things that have languished in drawers and the deep memory of this and previous computers out into the light of day again. I doubt, at this point, that I will ever return to writing poetry. There seems to have been some fundamental shift in how I view the world and in how I want to talk about it and poetry isn’t the form that comes to mind when I do sit down with a pen or a keyboard. I am a little sad about it and still fond (unbelievable, I know) of poems that I have written in the past. They do, however, feel very past and that brings me to my current project.

What started all of this today was puttering around my kitchen making coffee this morning. I would like to say that I do that every day as well, but lately I have been out the door before I had time to make the coffee and I am out of filters for the Chemex, my preferred caffeine delivery system, which requires a special trip to Hillsboro village and the one shop in Nashville that stocks the filters.

This morning it was raining. And what a wonderful thing that is. Our CSA box has been skinny with the heat and the drought and to know that rain is falling all over the mid-state makes me very happy. It also made me want to sleep in and putter this morning. Hence the digging out of the French press which was my one-time favorite and is now kept for Ms. Janet’s visits and caffeine emergencies. I filled the grinder with beans and changed the setting for the coarser grind, put the kettle on to boil and read a few pages of The Bee Keeper’s Apprentice. I had forgotten how very satisfying the ritual of the French press can be and seemed to enjoy my coffee just a bit more this morning.

In the midst of all this, it occurred to me yet again how much I enjoy the very simplest things about my new kitchen and our new house. There is, most of all, room to putter which compared to the increasingly claustrophobic confines of the duplex is remarkable all by itself. But the thing that makes me most content is the light. Even on a rainy morning, I don’t need to turn on the overhead light, there is plenty from the windows and that lack of artificial light makes everything seem quieter. The quiet of watery sunlight and the sound of my own feet padding about on a softly worn wooden floor, that to me is a small slice of paradise, marred, sadly, by the absence of the boychild and the husband. I am not knocking solitude by any means and I do welcome it, but this morning I missed them both.

All of that, which I suppose are really small things, lead me here to write something, anything, before leaving to run errands and make preparations for my cooking class at the Pannery this evening. So perhaps, it is not a far fetched thing for me to at least refer to myself in my own mind as a writer, as long as that impulse has the power to intrude on the previously ordered events of a day.

And on a completely different note, I will leave you with one of last night’s recipes from my Cooking with Herbs, Oils and Vinegars class in the ‘boro.

Sesame-Raisin Vinaigrette
adapted from Crescent Dragonwagon’s Soup and Bread

½ cup cider vinegar
2 tablespoons honey
1/3 cup dark raisins
¼ cup sesame seeds, toasted
½ teaspoon salt
¾ cup peanut oil
¼ cup toasted (dark) sesame oil

Place all ingredients, except the oils, in the blender and buzz until the raisins are chopped to a dark paste. With the measure cup in the lid out out, allow machine to run and slowly drizzle in both the oils, allowing the vinaigrette to emulsify. The vinaigrette will keep well in the fridge for a couple weeks, if it lasts that long. It is also good added to the mayo for chicken salad or as a sandwich spread, especially with club-type sandwiches. If it separates on standing, give the jar — tighly-lidded of course — a good shake, or if it thickens too much in the fridge, thin it with a little more vinegar.

*Sometimes you also need to edit, girl. There were some bad, bad grammar/agreement type problems. I do know better than to hit publish on a first draft… laziness.