Saturday, July 27, 2013

Oatmeal

An unusually cool summer morning with the deck thermometer still sound asleep at 48 degrees. Even kinda chilly for this lover of cold weather!  Still, the sun is peeping through this early part of the day and the breeze is gentle.  A beautiful morning on the front porch.

Recently at the housing clinic, I met with a client who had brought her young daughter to help her understand all the papers. After carefully walking them through the eviction process, I began making calls to set-up appointments for them with emergency housing agencies when I saw the daughter looking at the small grouping of fruit I had brought with me. Still chatting with United Way, I reached across and nudged the fruit her way. She took an apple, brushed it a couple times between her hands, gave it to her mom then sat back in her chair smiling as her mom took a bite. I picked up the clementines, handed them to the daughter then refocused on the call. When I turned back the small orange peels were piled carefully together, holding the barely-there core of an apple. 

I probably edged an ethic violation by giving a client some of my food. I don't want to know the answer to that unasked question. 

I was that daughter. 

Being a kid you learn to adapt to your world. Kids are amazing that way.

When faced with empty cupboards, refrigerators, and pocketbooks when we were hungry, I had one ally: Oatmeal. I would reach for that big box of oatmeal, plainly lettered, no Quaker man on the front, no sugared flavors in the mix. Cheap, filling. Even when out of powdered milk, sugar and karo syrup it seemed we always had cinnamon. A huge tin of cinnamon.

When I need a reminder of how far I have come in life...a gentle nudge back to the reality of how blessed I am to have a job, have the capacity to love other beings and the gift of living a whole 'nother day in front of me, I reach for those long-cooking steel cut oats. Enjoying the rhythm in the stirring, the spooning of creaminess into a bowl and the scent of cinnamon from a tin.

Plain. Simple.

Comforting.

Nothing better this morning to go with my cup of coffee. 

At least, that's my 2 ¢.







Thursday, July 4, 2013

Sparklers

I must be "off my feed" or something. Being hermit-ish, very un-Penny-ish for awhile now.

Hmmm...

July 4 would usually find me reading the declaration of independence, watching baseball, grilling out with family/friends, or heading to the river with a good book and fishing pole (bait and hook optional). Come nightfall, I'd eagerly await the first boom of the fireworks high above the bluffs. 

Not feeling it this year. No particular reason. 

Anyway, I decided if I'm going to be home all day I should clean house. Snort! So far all I've done is pretend to clean. Sassy is no help -- this morning she glared at the birds in the yard then headed back to stretch out for a nap on the bed.  Well, there's a good reason for not making the bed.

I opened the front door for a cross breeze and the ruby red glass in the door bathes the front hall in warm amber light. Whenever the air stirs the wind chimes there is this twinkle bouncing along the far wall.

Reminds me of Sparklers.

Happy Fourth, ya'll.