It's Christmas morning 2008. I'm alone again. As per usual. This is my life. too many of the prophecies I've encountered have come true. One astrology prediction from my natal chart stated that I would only have female children, and at least that much is true. Legally anyway. They're the only children I know about for sure from two marriages. They were the only children either of my two wives' had. That doesn't exactly make astrology true, in all cases, it depends on who is operating the system, and where they're at in their own lives at the ti-me of consultation.
I was not alone for Christmas of 1957. I was locked up in a cage with some really pissed off people in Los Angeles. They didn't nol pros my case and turn me loose for 37 days. I learned enough to not wanna repeat that performance, and haven't for the last fifty odd years. I watched two men get murdered and I didn't lift a finger to stop it. I would have been murdered myself. Funny, nobody had to warn me or teach me about that at all.
I was raised in an agrarian society, and my father was a hunter/predator in his spare time from teaching school, who also liked to grow his own meat for food in pens. I know all about killing things, and gutting them, and skinning them, and cutting them up into bite-sized portions. I sometime feel a wave of regret for people who haven't experienced this natural phenomenon. Namely, that we're predators at the top of the food chain. We kill in order to live like most other forms of life. Some caregivers go to extreme lengths to keep their wards from encountering death except as a remote idea that shouldn't concern them. Maybe they're right to do that. How would I know?
Ignorance is not always bliss. It's my sense of things that people who are familiar with growing food and slaughtering their own animals look at death with much less fear than those who are shielded from it. I think they have a better sense of how to avoid it. Especially in consideration of their gnowing the finality of it as an up close witness. It's a great excuse for getting out of some situation where I discover I don't wanna be. I just make death a part of their normal conversation, and nobody questions my lame excuse for departing.
I didn't initially kill the cabbage I bought at the grocery store, but I boiled it alive as if it were a lobster. I have never cooked any cabbage for myself that I can remember. I have to start doing it if I want fresh food that hasn't been sitting on a shelf somewhere possibly for years.
I cut the cabbage head in half and put one half of it in my biggest boiler, added salt and bacon grease, turned the front burner on medium low, and walked off from it. When I heard it boiling I went back to check on it. The outer parts of the cabbage head seemed tender, but it didn't feel cooked on the inside part away from the boiling water when I poked it, so I got a steak knife and my new tongs and cut it up into small pieces to cook thoroughly. I left the lid off so that some of the water would boil off.
If this test project works and the cabbage tastes even half decent, I'll eat a little better. I gotta do something about my diet. I think maybe my brother's dogs eat a healthier diet than me.
I just checked on my cabbage, tasted it, fixed me a bowl of it for my personal consumption. Damn... I'm good. I thought it would take a lot longer to cook. Maybe I was thinking of collards.
I do not attempt to tell the God's own truth here because I don't know what the truth is or hardly ever. I try to capture the drifting thoughts that randomly appear in my imagination for reasons I may not understand. I don't know if the content I capture with these words is true or false. The Comments settings are turned off to prevent me from having to defend what amounts to little more than fanciful, sometime crude speculation. Great moments in our lives never return.
