and waiting. To be picked. To be enjoyed. To celebrate the unexpected. Petitle zucchini. Slice paperthin and add to pizza with roasted eggplant, Parmesan, tomatoes, fresh herbs, black pepper. And any other yummy morsels as in cooked sweet potato. Yes. And what about those squash blossoms. Saute in a bit of olive oil, cherry tomatoes, sliced persimmons & cashews. Enjoy and then get down to the business of writing. Paper aplenty is ready. Is waiting.
At KF's Table (4)
ReplyDeleteWe are dishing a poet from another town who we call "derivative". Inside I am amused to see the cutting and pasting of other's words to form a new "original" work. Folly of the dish, folly of the comment over tuna, heavy with mayo, folly of the poet who looks too closely at the illogic of inspiration.
Nevertheless...
7a. SWEATER
(My little pal all
unravelled
on a holiday)
a) Memory of a special sweater does not surface. Sweaters make me itchy, as I am allergic to wool--why did we not know this growing up? Knee socks, sweaters, skirts, blankets, rugs. Now that I think of it, why is it I call a sweater "my little pal"-- and what holiday? Probably most of them, sullied by conflict and busted expectations. Unravelling of a fairy tale perhaps.
b) sully that
caboodle
frigate if tallied
bolster
pillow, huh?
No translation comes to mind. Bolster pillows are a neat idea though for reading in bed. Not sure if a caboodle exists without a kit.
(cp 419)