Guacamole …

from the avocado up.

I know you can buy this already made but there is something nearly ethereal about cutting, peeling, squeezing and mixing that makes things taste better when it is homemade.

My fresh cilantro is all gone so I had to use dried, but other than that, everything was fresh.

Cooking, though I don’t do it very often anymore, is very relaxing to me.

And quite frankly, after the last couple of days, I could use a bit of relaxation.

Maybe the simple act of the manual labor of putting something together will thwart the sleepwalking. I have no desire to be wandering around again, outside, in the dark, in the middle of the night.

In wintertime, the streetlight wakes me up but in the summer, the trees block the light that wakes me up before I can leave the porch .  I am more vulnerable. 

It is what it is and I have not the power to change it.

So here is hoping that the simple act of making guacamole will help me stay in bed all night. I will take whatever dreams that fate throws my way, but I don’t want to go outside with the opossums, spiders, frogs and other critters … not while I’m sleeping, anyway.

Thanks, mom, for the perfectly ripe avocados.

Wielding a butcher knife on a favored cutting board with Mamaw’s potato masher makes me feel like I can do anything …

and in the kitchen, when I’ve a mind to, I can.

Do anything, that is. 

Everything’s gonna be alright, literally (sorry to my fellow word geeks … I simply couldn’t resist)












at all costs, be yourself and nobody else.

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