This Too, People, Shall Pass
Listened to the show Saturday and it was not bad. It’s been a hot week, so the AC has been on, and time outside has been limited. Mostly because you walk out there and lose, right off the bat, where you end and the air begins. The heat is suffocating for some, and I have some real compassion for people who work in the heat. It’s almost as if you melt into the atmosphere, and that can be a good feeling, but I generally prefer feeling intact. I prefer not feeling crabby, too, and I did notice on my venture to the grocery store yesterday for popsicles and ice cream and butter that the crab factor is up there. Tolerance is not as high when someone gets in your way, and this is too bad but understandable. Heat indices as high as they are can do that to a person.
The thing to keep in mind when it’s so hot for so long is that this, too, shall pass. Everything ends, so do what you can inside. I made a pan of lemon bars yesterday, and cleaned up a bunch of strawberries, and made some wraps for lunch, and thought about the tattoos on the wrists of the checkout girl. They were flowers, kind of winding up her arm, and they were interesting, and rather pretty. Now, I’m not a person who passes judgment on what people choose to do with and to their bodies. I have an affinity for moderation. Tattoos are interesting and fun and I get it, but I get a bit willied out when I see a person covered, head to toe, in dragons and skulls. Piercings are the same way. Nice to see a short line of sparkly stones on one’s ear, or a sporadic little stud on an eyebrow, but a mazillion rings scattered over a human head is a bit unsettling.
And then there’s the whole realm of altering one’s body. Not a bad thing. A nip here, tuck there. Some injections for color along the eyes. A desire for a smooth neck. I get all that. But there are people who can’t stop, who get on the plastic surgery train and they’re off. At some point they stop looking like who they are, and sometimes things go badly and become a bit scary, and that makes me kind of sad. The human body is supposed to age. We are supposed to have wrinkles and turn gray. The trick is to move in that direction with a kind of an acceptance and grace. Not pay a crapload of money to put a stop to it. Because you can’t stop it. Same way you can’t stop the next wave of heat.
Ok, maybe I’m a little on the cranky side, and I ought to shut my piehole. It may be true that one day, despite my current feelings, I will go in to a kind doctor who wants to help out and point out my sagging eyelids and the wrinkles around my eyes and say, “Help.” I may. I may step up my exercise regimen as the years pass to fight the gentle rise of my belly. I may continue to work hard my whole life at maintaining something of a girlish figure. And it may or may not work. My soul has a body; the former will likely keep going, the latter will not. I guess the thing to do is do the best you can with both. Work on the inside, and have some tolerance for the out. And don’t get all mixed up with the world. It needs you, however you are. And if that includes a blue dolphin on your bicep or a nose ring or a mini-lift, well, that’s just fine. Just remember that who you are doesn’t have as much to do with what you look like as HOW you are. Especially on days this hot where you want to holler at everyone to get a move on. This too, people, shall pass. Saw the butternut leaves have begun to turn, and autumn is on its way.
Pulled the last of the rhubarb not too long ago, and figured I’ll wait for the cool of evening and throw together a pie. Something about rhubarb is just the thing on a hot day, and a scoop of vanilla ice cream makes it even better.
1½ cup sugar
2 T tapioca
¼ tsp salt
¼ tsp nutmeg
Beat eggs, and stir in remaining ingredients.
Line an 8 inch pie tin or plate with pastry. Fill with 3 cups thinly sliced rhubarb. Pour egg mixture over rhubarb, dot with a bit of butter, and cover with top crust, sealing and crimping edges. Brush top crust with milk, slit here and there, and sprinkle with sugar. Bake at 375 for 45 minutes or until crust is golden and fruit comes bubbling out of slits. Cool.
You might add 1-2 tsp of strawberry-flavored gelatin powder to the egg mixture, for color and delight.