Posting a haiku daily during February for National Haiku Writing Month (NaHaiWriMo) has me digging up some of these little poems that I’ve written and stowed away. Many were created in moments of reflection or times of sadness in which the haiku exercise was a way to process grief or tragedy. Today’s is one of those.
turbulent journey, abrupt and violent ending ~ now on the peace train
The suicide was my brother’s. His pain is over, but the grief ebbs and flows like the tide for all of his loved ones.
Spring is breaking out early at Glover Gardens, and the backyard is like a bird sanctuary. I have a new DSLR camera that I am learning how to use, and have taken to carrying it with me as much as I can when I’m outside (weekends only; I have a corporate job with a long commute). I am not good at schlepping the camera around yet and marvel at how pro photographers lug around all their equipment, ready to seize that great photo op when it appears. There are so many peripheral skills that they have to support the primary one of knowing what would make a great photo, and how to use their sophisticated equipment.
If you’ve been following Glover Gardens, you’ll know that I’m observing National Haiku Writing Month (#NaHaiWriMo)and posting one haiku per day in February. I started late, and it is a little more difficult than I thought, but I’m going to see it through. Fortunately, the backyard at Glover Gardens is a source of inspiration for me.
joy in my backyard: Mama Cardinal ponders life while I sit and watch
I hate beets! They make a promise with their glorious color that they cannot keep with their taste. To say it in haiku:
dear beets, please explain the dichotomy between your color and taste
Most foods are A-OK with me, but beetroot is tops on the Bad List, along with alligator and mayonnaise (the jarred kind).
I’ve tried to like beets, really I have, but they taste like the dirt they come from. I’m not even sure they are actually food! Maybe the first human who ate them were just really hungry.
My son’s godfather (known as the Raconteur here – see this post about his margaritas) used to come to my house so we could cook crazy things together oh-so-many years ago. I was alone at home with a small child and the Raconteur, who was yet to be married, had spare time, adored my child and is an adventurous cook and eater. We once we tried a dish that used ground fenugreek on chicken served in a beet-yogurt sauce. It was so bad that it was funny – my musician husband actually laughed out loud when he arrived home at around midnight and we served him Fenugreek Chicken with Beet Sauce. It was close to inedible. I’m not hating on the fenugreek; the beets just spoiled the whole dish.
What were we thinking?!!! It was actually the Raconteur’s fault; I was a doubter the whole time but he thought beets had gotten a bad rap because of the way our moms served them – pickled, from a can. His theory was that fresh beets with fresh yogurt (I think we made that, too) would be a whole different animal. Nope. Tasted like dirt.
The Raconteur married the lovely Kat-Woman, and we still find time to cook together when we can, now as a foursome with the Grill-Meister (another beet-hater). Kat-Woman also hates beets. But the subject keeps coming up. It seems like they want to like beets. (What’s up with that???) Last month, Kat-Woman sent us a text with a photo:
Continuing our discussion about beets…… Maybe this version will be edible?😆😳🤔
I doubted it. And since I never heard back from her about this travesty (beet hummus???), they must not have been edible.
Then today, this message and photo:
We’ve found a way we will eat beets. They do it right in London.
They keep going back to the beet thing. I’m still very, very doubtful, but the thing is – Kat-Woman and the Raconteur have excellent palates and we love many of the same foods. I might just have to try this the next time I’m in London. Maybe.
While I’m confessing my feelings about beets, I’ll have to admit that I’ve never tried borscht. I should, it’s a traditional food that a foodie should have knowledge of…but again, it’s got beets in it! Convince me, someone!
Or maybe not. Beets are beets, and I’m a beet-hater.