** a long forgotten post sitting silently in the wings for a chance. today is that day. unedited. unfinished. just right. **
back to basics.
eggs for breakfast
miss the unavailability
letters - overstimulous.
avoided activity on purpose this week. to stay out of hte sensory overload. the commercials. remember thinking while I was overseas how anyone owuld ever go back to the american ways. this was better. simpler. and it was. it is. but it's also really fucking hard.
my first day back - my mom picked me up from the airport and took me immediately to her choir pracdtice. i dropped of my cat in the sanctuary and walked to target. after two years, I had no usable shoes - nothing with a back on it. and it was december.
i walked the two blocks to thestore as i'd done for two years. and i felt weird. people starred at me. pointed. honked. yelled. i purchased a jacket and something else silly and mosied back. but i already knew. walking... was a thing of the past. i felt like i'd crossed some invisiable line. like even htough it made more sense to walk, thats just not hte way we do things here. and let's be honest, it's not.
when i got home that night, i was enamoured with how clean everything smeleed and the tv. oh the tv. i stayed up until 4am. watching some godawful vh1 reality show. not because it was good. lordy no, it was awful. but because it was there. because i could.
spent days in proverbial silence - in calm. no tv. no internet. didn't miss it.
started with teh bread - kyiv pumpernickle. the glorious of the glorious. my favorite bread on the planet. then came breakfast - the simplest, humblest and most delishious meal i've ever had - hard boiled egg on blackbread. then the borshch. and it feels like home. it feels like mine. it's simple and good.
yesterday i was watching Top Chef. Because it was on. i wasn't particularily interested in it, but it was there. i coud have been listing to a favorite album, or embroidering, or cleaning, or reading, or doing anything else than speaks to my soul. but no, the tv said go,and i went.
However. the challenge was to cook som3thing that made them feel like home. And i thought about it. I didn't have that. there's nothing my mom or dad or grandmothers ever cooked that makes me feel like I'm at home.
then I made my borshch. and I ate my egg sammie. and I realized that wasn't true at all. this is it. and this simple move, is home for me.
the act of making and sharing a meal is a way to show love. and sometimes the simplest things are the greatest.