Gourmet Shrubs for the Deer

My neighbor, David, who cross-country skis our neighborhood's 90 acres, tells me that my yard has the most deer tracks. That's because i run a gourmet restaurant for the deer.

True, i call it a garden, but deer don't know the word "garden." They know food, even if they don't know the word for it.

The deer walk through the snow and sample my wide variety of shrubbery. In recent years, i've planted native shrubs, but the deer like some of those too. Hopefully, the natives are able to withstand the deer browsing their leaves and tips of their branches.

The PJM rhododendrons aren't native, but they can grow tall enough to have a tiara of flowers. The star magnolias have a narrow waist, which the deer have nibbled, and a buxom crown.

Thoughts nibble their way into our meditation. Thoughts nibble our peace and quiet. Thoughts are stressful. All thoughts are stressful--even pleasant thoughts.

Thinking of the deer could be stressful, but if i accept life as it is, then my mind is as cool as snow.

Turnip Soup

I harvested a very large turnip. Since there was no way to hack into it, i put it in my stewpot and boiled it for an hour till it was tender. What do you do with turnips anyway?

I divided this one into 3 parts. I mashed one-third of it; i diced a third; and i stored the other (cooked) third in the refrigerator, awaiting further inspiration.

Since i didn't grow up with turnips on the supper table, i always feel at a loss about how to cook them. But two years ago, i had a glorious turnip soup for my birthday at a fancy restaurant. I've been salivating for turnip soup ever since.

But what to do and how to do it?

Doubt is a serious affliction on our spiritual path. Doubt can prevent us from even getting started at all. I could leave the turnips in the garden all winter just because i don't know how to harvest them or cook them.

So step aside doubt. Let's figure out what to do with a turnip. First, i bought some heavy cream. Any creamy soup is improved by real cream. I put a quart of mashed turnip in a saucepan, added half a cup of cream, and a cup of chicken broth. I used my immersion blender, then added garlic salt and thyme. Oh, my. Turnip soup is delicious.

Fresh Air Daffodils

Spring is just around the corner in London. Walking through Covent Garden yesterday, i saw a pot of daffodils on an outdoor table at a restaurant.

Many restaurants in London have outdoor tables with people sitting at them, bundled up in their coats, enjoying their meals, or perhaps more often, their drinks or cigarettes.

You'd think that the outdoors would mean a breath of fresh air, yet that's where people go to pollute their lungs with cigarette smoke.

The little daffodils silently remind us to breathe and enjoy this breath. This breath of fresh air. This breath of city air. This breath of smoky air.