i would say this has been a good day for me. it has not been exceptionally memorable, though it goes without saying it didn't have to be. it wasn't one hundred percent pain free, but it was 85 percent painless, and i can live with that, since i have no choice and i'm sure the days are coming when i'll look to 85 percent less pain as a heavenly orgasm.
no, i think today was better because i started to get a grip again. i started to see that there is work ahead of me, and that i am the person for the work that has to be done. i started to see me getting better, i guess, and that's not a bad thing.
hence, the apples.
i slept good last night, but i still woke rather early today. i don't know why; just passed out early and compensated with my wake up time, i suppose. but i did wake up, and i turned on my coffee pot and i said my prayer. i took my time this morning. last night i'd worked on a beat and a guitar part and had scribbled some lines of what seemed right for the poem, and i wanted to put more work in on it today. i said my prayer and i had my coffee and water and took my medicine and insulin and i read my bible and my meditation book and i went up to the office and did some more recording and some more writing and got a piece finished that i wanted to get done, mostly. it needs some tweaking on a remix and maybe i'll run the lines over again, i don't know. i'm tired of perfection. i need to DO something with the stuff i'm putting together. but i'm getting ahead of myself.
i also put in a couple applications and i decided to get myself together today. so i groomed, cut a nice slice in my scalp somehow in the process, and i showered. i had/have an ache in the instep of my left food, but was okay walking and everywhere else felt fairly normal. so i wanted to get out of the house for a bit. i went to pay the meeting rent and gather more information, so i could gauge whether i needed to suggest postponing our anniversary meeting or not. on the strength of how they have no idea what they're actually doing at the clinic, it seems the best idea. but the rent is paid for september and october. i also went to the library to get some reading stuff, as i've been re-reading segments of "Hannibal" for the past two months. i started reading Andrew Vachss' 'Blossom' as i sat at the library as Lonnie suggested we grab lunch when he took his break. we went and got pizza and wedding soup, nice. i went to the meat market, got two center cut pork chops and a NY strip steak, got the large bag of flour that i DIDN'T want from Sav-a-Lot, and i came home. i cut up the hot peppers i got from my uncle, splashed them with some olive oil and salt and put them in the freezer. i got the chops seasoned and bagged and the steak in a marinade. i decided on a burger and soup for dinner and that's what i had.
so i had a day of responsibility, a day of shopping, some self-care (and self-mutilation, sadly😢), a day of preparation, a day of poetry and music, a day of friendship, a day of gratitude.
and a day of making applesauce.
there's a point to that. gonna wrap it up with that point, i believe.
my uncle Kenny buys stuff. everyone carries a small part of the legacy they were born into. he is a traveler to auctions and flea markets. he does hoard, though he doesn't think so and i don't care. but he also buys fruits and vegetables, and he shares them with his family. i got some peppers from my mother that he'd left her, and an apple that i ate that day, think it was yesterday. anyway, he came by last night while i was upstairs in my office and he had peppers for me, as well as some apples in the back of his van. the apples in the picture above. they were pretty beat up; they're not apples that anyone would pick for eating. huge bruises and blemishes, discoloration. apples from apple trees, fallen to the ground or just bashed together in the bushels. i took them anyway. left em on my table with the peppers overnight. and i just cut up the peppers and did what i said i did with them. but the apples?
a song went through my head as i looked at them, a song i wrote for my poetry group when i was living in Columbus, song called "Applesauce" appropriately enough. the hook of it went, 'the moons the only audience, so there's a light applause; if we were made of apples we'd be making applesauce'. sex song, obviously. but things of spirit are born in flesh, right?
i realized, looking at those sad apples, that they looked like i felt. they looked worn out, beat up, beat down. they looked overwhelmed and overwrought. they looked weary. and no one would choose them, they weren't pretty, they weren't standard for apples. but God doesn't care about all that. God knows an ugly apple can make a wonderful pie, or turnover...or applesauce.
so i found a recipe, then tossed it aside and did my thing. and now i have applesauce cooling where several discolored and bruised apples once sat. it's a lovely applesauce, and i am honored to have made it. and i'm blessed to know that i could make it. because it showed me that i am feeling better, about me, about life. and it is november, and i'm doing better for now. and that's the miracle of it. apples don't need to be perfect to make cider or cobbler... or applesauce. they just have to be apples.
i'm grateful to my Heavenly Father for apples and applesauce,
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