Turn! Turn! Turn!, the Full Pink Moon

Saucer magnolia petals 4-24-13

To Everything (Turn, Turn, Turn)
There is a season (Turn, Turn, Turn)
And a time to every purpose, under Heaven

A time to be born, a time to die

A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep

The Byrds, Turn!Turn!Turn!

lyrics adapted by Pete Seeger from the Book of Ecclesiastes 

Are you ready for spring? The question was posed by my neighbor as we discussed our weekend plans.  I had to bite my tongue as to not point out that spring arrived over a month ago, but I managed silence as I knew exactly what she meant.  And the answer is an emphatic NO.  No, I am not ready for spring.  I'm dawdling and ill prepared; my yard work seems stalled as a part of our yard is in construction. Even the plants seem late.  

TURN! TURN! TURN!

That last sentence is a lie. The plants are never late.  They are timed quite intricately to the sun calendar and temperature.  Perhaps what I mean is that this spring feels more blustery than the norm.  Trees are leafing, the cherry and apple trees are about to turn the world pink.  Nature is on time.

TURN! TURN! TURN!

Time is moving whether we are ready or not...a particularly hard lesson I learned this past month.  Another dear family member has passed, our Aunt Sue, and I feel our house has been cloaked in mourning for so long.  Must we all return to dust?

TURN! TURN! TURN!

But everything has a season, has a time.  To bloom or to decay. We are powerless to stop it, best to just enjoy it.  And this month, the world is turning pink.

Froot Loops

"Froot Loops is a fun part of a complete breakfast, and is a good source of fiber", my husband reads to me from the small ready to eat cereal package.  I had picked up the package and put it back; it had been so long since I ate something so junky... so completely nutrition-less and to boot, it was one of my food addictions.  He had taken it back off the shelf and was discussing the lack of calories.  I put it back on the shelf and then, like a true junkie, snatched it back off in a move of uncontrolled desperation.  My face flushed liked a thief caught stealing and I couldn't look my husband in the eye.  I was being naughty. Food naughty.  It felt exhilarating...

I reassured myself that it was a single serving. I reasoned that we were camping.  Everyone knows food rules don't apply to camping...

And that is how I found myself sitting on a hard bunk in a dusty ancient cabin eating Froot Loops while watching my spouse sitting in meditation on a picnic table just outside.  Perhaps I was in my own meditation- mindlessness in spoon to mouth feeding.  The little donuts of color certainly looked tasty in a true sugar fix way; but something was off.  They tasted like nothing...

sweet

...but nothing. 

I wondered how it could be that I once ate a whole box in a cartoon daze on a Saturday morning while my elders were sleeping off their Friday night bowling orgy.  I took another bite; the milk was cold and I liked the interplay of crunchy wetness, but the taste was still so bland.  Could my taste buds have progressed so far?

I thought about my current favorite foods.  My friend Micha's delicious Béchamel sauce Mac n Cheese is a top runner. I am also a total sucker for Maria's Deviled Eggs.  (Please Maria, grace me with just one this summer...or a whole dozen...if you insist.)  I adore my husband's Filet and Brandy Peppercorn Sauce.  I love my daughter's Lasagna (no, not a recipe handed down through my Italian roots, but her own find.  Savory and oh so good!) I am also an immodest fan of my own Leftover Veggie Stir Fry, oozing with fresh ginger and garlic.  I try to find the common element and all I can see is that they are all fresh creations brimming with good ingredients, but more importantly, LOVE.  These recipes are not Julia Child's Beef Bourguignon; but there is the commitment of time to chop, stir, whisk, watch and coax. 

And maybe that is what has changed- I am used to food that has intrinsic energy. Energy in how the food is organically grown. Energy in how it is locally obtained. Most importantly, energy from the chefs who understand that to cook well is to offer love. No, let me correct myself...to cook well is to create love.

Sorry, Toucan Sam, but even your neon colors can't hide how dull your offering is in contrast to the harvest of well tilled earth and culinary competency.