Shelf-life

It has been a very busy week. It promises to be followed by more harrowing stretches of time. I don’t have time for a lot of things but here’s what I miss the most: cleaning up my kitchen cupboard. Now, this is odd because I don't mind the other cupboards being in disarray. But kitchen cupboards are special to me. They are important. A ready stock of nice smelling cinnamon sticks bundled neatly, set next to a jar of cloves is comforting. It keeps a certain sense of well-being around. I like my kitchen cupboards to convey a loving preparedness. To make up for a slow, steady erosion of peace that happens on busy days.

Like maybe I didn’t get time to eat a leisurely breakfast or write a song about a blackbird. But should I decide to wake up in the middle of the night to listen to traffic, I could open my kitchen cupboard and make something to drink. A cup of something warm and soothing. Usually, it’s highly cooked tea. But sometimes, on beautiful nights when skies and earth are at peace, I make something mellow. I have hot water with honey, lemon and crushed black pepper, stirred with a cinnamon stick. The drink is a beautiful color. If it got transposed onto a lipstick, it would probably be called ‘Ambrosia’ and be used by ladies who lunch in expansive gardens.

It’ll be a while till I have a nice, long, peaceful weekend. And when that happens, I will enjoy it, savour it, remember it, and treasure it. I suppose, I’ll just take it and lock it up in my cupboard.