I just got back from the Farmer’s Market in Fruita and have my staples for the week. Including five kinds of plums and okra!
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: staples.
I just got back from the Farmer’s Market in Fruita and have my staples for the week. Including five kinds of plums and okra!
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: staples.
From the Glenstone Museum. Fruit or seed or flower?
For Cee’s Flower of the Day.
It’s nice to handle emotions with fantasy. “No it’s not,” you shout, “that’s horrid! We should think nice thoughts and feel nice feels!”
I do not agree. I think that we feel what we feel. Emotions are a rainbow and a sunny day and a huge storm and a tornado. Let them all through. However, we do not have to share them or inflict them on others or act them out in person. We can satisfy that anger, that grief, that hurt, that wound, with fantasy. And let the hurt heal through fantasy by acknowledging it.
There is tons of stuff on the internets/books/magazines about how we have to think nice thoughts, we are what we think, and on and on and on. But now wait a minute. Our Creator thinks up some really really horrible things which play out, right? The world has the full range of emotions from really really dark to beautiful and kind. I am like the world, like the ocean, like the Creator. I have the full range too. It is not the feeling that is evil. It is the acting it out in the world. If it’s acted out in fantasy, does that truly harm others?
Perhaps if it’s PTSD, there is harm. But PTSD is not acting out a fantasy, it’s being unable to deal with something terrible, terrible events, horror, war and violence. Those feelings must be dealt with too and it is no shame to need help, to need a listener, to need a safe place. The same with depression and anxiety: sometimes feelings are overwhelming and we are afraid, afraid, afraid. There is help.
I think that Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī’s Guesthouse poem gives a path.
The Guesthouse
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
translation by Coleman Barks
_____________________________
I read this poem as being about our feelings. A meanness, a dark thought, malice. I think that there is a translation that says that we want each guest to take a good report back to the Beloved, so we must treat each with kindness and hospitality. When a friend dreams of a bear attacking his brother, I ask, “Did you invite the bear in?” “No,” he says, “It’s a bear! They are dangerous!” “But it’s a dream bear,” I say, “I would invite the bear in and listen to it.” “You don’t understand bears,” he says. “It is a dream bear, not a real bear. I always invite the dream monsters to talk to me.” Don’t you? There is a story about a dreamer who dreams about being chased by a monster, a horrible monster, over and over. He runs and runs. Finally he is sick of it and stops. “What do you want!” he shouts at the monster. “Oh, I am so glad you stopped. I was so scared and hoped that you would help me,” says the monster. And the man wakes up.
The giant fruit bat is part of the outdoor pollinator exhibit this holiday season at the US Botanical Gardens.
For Cee’s Flower of the Day.
Taken in my unmown yard, the fruits are ripening.
For Cee’s Flower of the Day.
The hazelnut in my yard.
For Cee’s Flower of the Day.
For Cee’s Flower of the Day.
Taken in 2016.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: citrus.
But the fruit isn’t lemons or oranges, you say!
No, the lemon or lime is sprinkled on top.
Katherine White Burling was my maternal grandmother, and this recipe is attributed to her. I still have the small three ring binder that my mother gave me when I was in high school, explaining that my sister and I had to do some of the cooking. We told her what we wanted to make and she would write the recipe in our book and help us. I wrote this recipe out in the 1970s.
preheat the oven to 350 F
cream: 1 C sugar
1/2 C butter
while the butter is softening enough to cream, cut up fruit: apples, pears, peaches, rhubarb, or use berries…
Add to the creamed butter:
1 C flour
1 tsp baking powder
salt
2 eggs
Spread in in a buttered, floured pan. Cover with chopped fruit: apples, pears, peaches. This one was local plums and blueberries.
Sprinkle with sugar and lemon juice
Dot with butter on top.
Bake for 30-40 minutes, depending on your oven.
Cook until browned a little in the part that rises around the fruit, and when a toothpick comes out clean.
I am submitting this to today’s Ragtag Daily Prompt: Kaleidoscope, because the torte reminds me of a kaleidoscope.


I took this in Portland, a couple months ago. Leaves down but fruit still on the tree, each with a droplet in the rain.
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