Judy making pizza in August 2018
Shadows Seventeen July 29, 2018
For Mary Susan and Tom Heath
At two a.m. I’m wide awake. What
is my mind trying to tell me? Not,
I think, “Slow down.” I already have.
No, it’s urging me to do a little more
each day until I approach normal, a
new normal. Full recovery is slow, maybe
not even possible, but I can pick my
own tomatoes, make the soups and
sauces that will brighten winter days.
Tomatoes are good for the body and
the soul. They heal in subtle ways.
In the garden I still find the neglected
thyme and oregano. I add some basil
I dried a few years ago. I buy fat
green peppers and slice up strong
white onions. The garlic is sprouting,
but I dice it small and add it to the
celery, and then stir in tomato paste
and many sauce tomatoes. They are
ripening in paper bags where the
bugs can’t eat them, and keeping
cold in the refrigerator for the next
batch of sauce. Whatever my old
heart is up to, it thrives on a plate
of spaghetti with melted cheese,
and a rich tomato sauce. Don’t
forget the bay leaf, a sprinkle of
black pepper added to the sauteeing
onions, and a dash of salt.