Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Plums

I have just been preserving some plums from my two plum trees.  Luckily the trees are small and ridden with leaf eating insects, or else I would have a true crop surplus on my hands.  I hate to see even one piece of fruit go to waste.

Last year I made a batch of jam, and some sorbet with these plums, which are too juicy for drying.  But Robert has already filled the cupboard with strawberry and raspberry jam, added to the jars left from last year, so I don't think that is a good use of this luscious fruit. Without energy for fancy recipes, I just squeezed about thirty plums and added some sugar and brought them to a boil.  When cool, I will simple freeze the juice and hope I remember it is there for smoothies and to mix with club soda throughout the year.  I also experimented with pouring some vinegar on some whole plums stuffed in a jar, to see if plum vinegar could be produced. If so, I will add it to my strawberry and raspberry vinegars.  I am delighted to have these fruity vinegars for salad dressing, but my housemates are unimpressed with red vinegar, no matter what the flavor. 

I am feeling frugal, due to the fear of our impending default on the national debt.   Somehow I think the stupidity of this government is going to end up affecting my own bottom line, and I will be glad to have a cupboard full of jam and vinegar.   It is true that Legal Aid, who I work for, is primarily funded with federal dollars, so if the whole county goes topsy turvey, I will perhaps be out of a job. 

I can't eat plums without thinking of the poem by William Carlos Williams and wanting to create some homage of my own:

It is cruel to strangle each little plum by its pit,
Squeezing guts into a pan, tossing away the skin,
and then turning up the heat until there is roiling fuschia
but I could not leave such sweetness on the ground
for the raccoon to gather in his clawed fingers.
and suck into his pointed mouth.


Saturday, July 16, 2011

Can't Sleep


I have been neglecting my writing, which means that I have been missing myself.  Tonight I went to bed, trying to feel tired, but couldn't get there.  Mostly, this is caused by the discomfort of having my mother visit for two weeks.  We are more than halfway through and I can see the light, but it is still tough.  Many women see their mother every day and they are used to all the slings and arrows of childhood being flung back and forth all life long.  I went three thousand miles away, as soon as I had the choice and it was perhaps the only clear decision of my life.  There was just no doubt that I wanted to be far away from my birthplace. 



I can't even say that there is anything wrong with my mother.  It's just that I hate to see all the ways I am just like her.  I just can't stand the similarities.  And I can't act like my normal adult being when she is in the house.  I run to work to relax into who I have become.   That is all worthy of endless therapy, but it is easier to keep a big country between us.

For right now, I am keeping a little list of the things I will do when I get normal life back.  Sorry, Mom.