Food - Zylmor and Earth

I travel around the earth and love to see different foods available. In Dromdrevc the food was rich, each new politabub or Charter wanted a signature dish that was more indulgent than the last. Some of the food was so delectable I could barely use language to describe it but I tired of the richness of the food and longed for the simple dishes of my early childhood.
Arriving on the earth I had the blandness of bottlemilk for many months until the human teeth came through. Then human babyfood from little tins and jars again it was very bland but luckily my earth parentfem enjoyed eating half of what I had to endure.
I am not sure my journey with earth food was as a result of being an artprisoner in Dromdrevc or perhaps my mentality had a fissure of imbalance due to shift to earth but I noticed quite quickly that my earth body had no interest in trying new foods. In my second and third earth years I ate dry cornflakes for breakfast, mid morning snack was slices of apple without peel, lunch was a concoction of cheese and beetroot encased in a bread item called a barmcake and then for high tea, a piece of chop meat and tomato. I refused to eat anything else and no doubt caused the mother great anxiety. I was not speaking, I did not trust my accent or that I would suddenly speak Zylese. My concerns were amplified by the mother who seemed to be having a meltdown of some kind and the way she spoke to me in private was harsh and monosyllabic, in public she was effusively chatty, the frowns would disappear and smiles take their place.
My earthsibs also seemed to have issues with me, it seemed there was some huge problem around my birth that no one spoke of because they all knew it. My mind-talk was faulty, I discovered I could mind-listen people who were empathetic to me but I was five in earth years before I met an empathetic person. For a person who had spent many years in prison, unable to mind-speak or speak freely it was not a hardship for me but it was lonely. I developed rituals around food, each different food on my plate had to be seperate and single ingredients only. vegetables had to be raw, no sauce of any kind. Looking back from now I see that I was trying to find some control in my life, something that only I could control.
It took me a long time to come out of the control of food and to begin to appreciate the simple pleasure of food and eating. Living on my own again in Cork during the week I find that I am buying the same foods each week, my lunches are the same and my dinners are based on the same items, raw vegetables, beans and tomato - am I regressing? I am monitoring myself and attempting to try different foods again

Boat Picnic

The boat trip on the gentle river ended with a picnic on the shore. Surprisingly, Sean had packed wine, grapes, brie, mini quiches and the most decadent strawberry cream pie. After imbibing copious amounts of wine we realised we were incapable of rowing back across the river, in fact we were incapable of anything except giggling loudly and making really strange word associations.
We slept fitfully, wrapped in each others arms and woke much later sober, with headaches but we couldn't find the oars. We felt like boat joy riders deserting the boat as we swam back across the river.
Ideas like idyllic picnics or lazy boat trips sound so romantic and beautiful but it's a bit like eating a sandwich on a beach, sand always gets into the sandwich. Perfection on earth does not exist. We can aim towards perfection but there will always be a missing oar or soaking wet clothes.

a day wasted

It was just another day to Sally, to you and me it might appear abnormal but to Sally it was routine. She awoke as dawn broke, the noises in the city were turning from the nocturnal vibrations from speeding cars and raucous laughter from drunken lads on the way home after a night on the tear, the scuffles and fights that break out from too much drink or drugs. The usual. Sally slept under a dustbin lid and had managed to stay asleep for a whole hour, later she would wander down to the park and have a nap, hopefully in the sun to warm her body. She peeked out, and as there was no one about she snuck out of the alley and headed off to the river. The suns rays were beginning to strike the pavement and she was hoping for a good day, warm and with a full belly.
A dog started to bark from the next street and soon all the dogs outside started a woof woof chorus. It was not a pleasant sound to Sally.

Along the river the men who had drunk too much had thrown fast food cartons and Sally sifted through them to find a half hamburger or some cold fries. This morning they all seemed to be empty when she reached the last and hit the payload a full quarter cheese and bacon burger, and a half full milkshake. Yummy she thought as she quickly devoured the food and drank as much of the milkshake that hadn't spilt. Mmm, that was good she thought as she meandered across the bridge. Around the next turn was a promenade close to the river's water where she could clean up as best she could. She sat and dipped into the water washing her face and the rest of her that she could reach. Traffic was building up, two boys walking down the path threw stones at her so she ran away towards the park. She wandered up and down the paths to find a nice spot to lie down in privacy, soaking up the sun's rays, eventually she wandered into a rockery and lay down close to a tree that hid her from most but the curious of onlookers. Sally closed her eyes and was soon sound asleep, dreaming of warm beds and full bellies, it had been six months since she was thrown out of the only home she knew. She had learned much in those months whilst using up a number of her lives - living on the streets is no place for a cat

a routine round of golf?

They say in golfing that no two holes are ever the same, you can play the same hole on the same course at the same time every day for a year and the result will be different and I have to say that until I holidayed in Killarney, County Kerry. My first round of the vacation took place on the Beaufort Golf Club course. I am average, playing off 22, I win some and lose some and occasionally draw some. Nothing spectacular but great exercise and chat.
My first three holes I played one over par but I wasn't concerned. The views were spectacular, the McGillycuddy Reeks stood majestically in the background sweeping down to the lakes. The weather was perfect, a little overcast with a gentle warm breeze. The holes continued but I was concentrating on the relaxation of nature, the gentle undulations of the man made fairways abruptly stopped by the rough and beyond the rough was real nature. Huge native trees shrouded the ferns and bluebells. The smell of wild garlic by the pockets of water, ponds and streams. I could hear ducks and geese and the chirping of field birds, I even thought I heard a corn crake. After the forteenth I was 8 over par but had decided not to play the next day but to climb Carrantouhill, the highest peak. A local man had told me that if you couldn't see the mountain it was raining and if you could see it, it was about to rain. He made me laugh but told me lots of stories about poachers, myths and characters from the locality. Apparently a priest would row across the Upper Lake every Sunday to take Mass in a chapel for mountain folk. It sounded beautiful but I could imagine it was tough in cold bitter weather.

So there I was four holes to go and I wished I was elsewhere, the golf was good but nature was better, I was so relaxed and as I set up my tee shot on the fifteenth all I could hear was the sounds of nature around me, the buzz of insects, the long grass swaying in the breeze, the songs of blackbirds and the croaking of frogs. Just beyond the green was a castle ruin with ivy twisting round the tower and while I was swinging my shot I was kind of watching two blackbirds fighting on the rampart, I struck the ball and it leapt in the air. I was watching the ball and the birds and then Gloria, who I was playing with started whooping, "A hole in one, Julia, way to go." An impossible dream, a thing I never thought I would ever achieve, I had never dreamt of ever dropping a hole in one. A time for celebration, we quickly finished the rest of our round and sat outside the clubhouse sipping a lovely New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc and smiling. Finally I broached the subject with Glo, "I think I was being taught a lesson today, when I let go of all my troubles and concentrated only on the glories of nature I achieved the impossible."

Life as a cactus

I am not sure whether I would like life if I was a cactus. Even though you'd be prickly people would prod at you, kick and hate you. On top of that you'd be obsessed with food and storing it in case of drought or famine. It would be very disconcerting not to be able to break bread with friends. One long day would run into another, always in the baking sun. No chat about the weather, what would be the point, it is the same - hot!

routine

A routine day at work, lots of patient interaction, met a missionary and a Dub.
Off for a cycle soon. Saw a pedestrian accident last night. I wish I could convince Aary to wear a helmet, you just never know when it is neccessary

I just can't do it. Vanessa was dancing across the studio and I was supposed to follow her routine but my head was on another plane. The charity revue was only two weeks away and I couldn't even skip across the stage in tune. I was going to make an awful fool of myself and everyone else. I could see them all rolling their eyes, wondering who cast the baby elephant. It's alright for them, they have balance and a sense of self. Me, I have no co ordination on a good day. This was all Fionn's idea. A team building exercise he had said. Next day after work I was trying to peel my body into a leotard when it suddenly occurred to me I hadn't had me period in some time. Back to the studio and I now know I am pregnant, which makes me four and a half months and I am used to the idea but I have to make plans. The one decision that is causing me to be even more clumsy than usual is whether to let Tadgh know, we split up a few weeks ago, no acrimony, just not working out. I am really in a bind, should I tell him or leave well enough alone. This silly routine has me beat. "Sorry Vanessa, this really isn't for me, I'm out, good luck though!"