#2544 the best thing I ate this week

Sometimes it’s hard to believe that I didn’t like avocados, but it’s only been within the last 10 years or so that I have embraced the green fruit. I like to smear it on bread and put a fried egg on top - I know, I know, avocado toast is so four years ago, but I’m a late bloomer. And guacamole? Why did I deny myself the deliciousness all those years? There are few things as luscious as a perfectly ripe avocado. The smooth, buttery flavor is pretty damn great.

Yesterday, Thursday, was an avocado festival at my house. I had four perfectly ripe avocados sitting in the fruit basket, waiting to delight my taste buds. I fried a couple of farm fresh eggs, toasted some regular old white bread, sliced into one of the avocados and scooped the tender fruit from half. I spread it over the two slices of toast and sprinkled Trader Joe’s Everything but the Bagel seasoning on it. I topped each piece of avocado toast with an egg. The egg was enhanced with a dash of Trader Joe’s Cuban style Citrusy Garlic seasoning and a couple of shots of Marie Sharp’s green sauce. When I cut into the egg, the rich orange yolk oozed out over the bread and avocado. Every bite was amazing.

But that’s not even the best thing I ate!

Later that afternoon, I took the other half of the avocado plus another whole avocado and I smooshed it up in a bowl. I added a good squirt of lime juice, a generous sprinkle of the aforementioned Citrusy Garlic seasoning, and a healthy pinch of cayenne pepper. I mixed it all together and scooped some up on a salty, crispy tortilla chip. The crunchiness of the chip. The creaminess of the avocado. The flavorful seasonings. It was the best afternoon snack I could have had. I gobbled it all without remorse or regret. 

We still have two avocados left. We have to eat them tomorrow while they are at peak perfection.  I don’t think that will be a problem!

~~~~

One more thing..

I wrote a haiku today, so in the spirit of National Poetry Month, here it is:

Last day of April

Sitting outside on lunch break

Sun feels warm on me

(Takes little bow)

Last thing...

Tomorrow is the first day of May and I have decided to challenge myself to write every day in May. Why? Well, I attempt to write every day in November each year. It’s fun to do that because the holidays are upon us and it’s getting cold and wintery, so it’s kind of a snapshot of 30 days in the preparation for winter. May and November are six months apart. May is the gateway to summer. I think it will be fun to do a 31 day snapshot of the late spring/early summer in the intermountain west. 

That said, I’ll talk to you tomorrow!

#2543 a poem

Here is my final offering for this National Poetry Month. I drafted this poem back in 2017, and it has been on my mind since then. I have changed it a little, but it is still mostly the same as when I first wrote it.

Should

I hate the word should.

It hints at negligence:

You should have seen the signs.

It implies judgement disguised as advice:

What you should do...

It makes me feel guilty:

I should wash those dishes.

So when I hear or think the word should,

I stop.

Because maybe I did see the signs and

didn't realize I was missing something.

Because your advice is likely sound and good and

I would benefit from following it if I didn't feel judged.

Because I know those dishes need to be washed and

I just want to rest and I can wash them later.

And you know what?

I'm doing the best I can and

I'm not gonna should all over myself.

  

#2539 a poem

My mom said the last poem I posted had a Twilight Zone vibe to it. This one might have that vibe also. This poem is also based on a dream I had. I guess I've kind of been in a dark space. LOL

They

My phone buzzes

Waking me from an afternoon nap.

I say hello, my voice quiet and rough with sleep.

Listen to me, he says with urgency.

Take the baby and leave right away.

They are coming for you and

They will hurt you. 

I've made a terrible mistake and

I can't pay and

They are coming.

A jolt of understanding.

An unexpected sound.

An unfamiliar tread on the stairs.

Down the hall, my son cries.

They are here.

#2535 a poem

In March I had a couple of vivid dreams that lead me to write poems about each of them. Here is one. I don’t know if it is strictly considered poetry since there’s no specific style. It’s kind of all over the place. #freestyle

The Memo

The memo comes by email, high priority

To be seen by everyone in the company

At all the business units in all the states.

=

To: All Employees

From: Management

Subject: Person X

EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY 

After lengthy and substantial investigation,

It has been determined that Person X has

Fooled everyone all along.

What passed as knowledgeable and proficient 

Was, in fact, an elaborate deception.

Person X has been reassigned to a role that

Will not require communication with you.

Do not speak to Person X.

The opinions of Person X are not to be considered.

If Person X approaches you, walk away and immediately report

The interaction to your manager and Human Resources.

=

I read the memo.

I shake my head.

I shrug. 

I return my attention to my new assignment.

I am Person X.

#2531 a poem

April is National Poetry Month. I've heard that poetry is for everyone, and that it is good for the soul. It's true also that not all poems are good, just like pretty much everything else in life, amiright?

So here's a little poem that I wrote. I hope you like it.

My Garden

On Saturday afternoons in the summer,

I sit under this tree

next to the fountain.

Grief sat beside me 

on that bench

and invited me to mourn.

Every week I walk

along these paths and

observe the passing of time.

The garden’s residents

show themselves to me:

quail, bunnies, and squirrels.

Less frequently and more memorably,

hawks and eagles

and once, a bobcat.

These flowery bushes are alive

with hummingbirds, butterflies,

and bumblebees.

Take a deep breath.

Can you smell the sweetness?

Can you hear nature?

My garden reminds me to

be present and thankful,

humble and delighted.