blackeyedpeas.jpg

today i leapt.

and i leapt with deliberation and thoughtfulness.

in the fiber arts community there’s a movement called slow cloth – just the name calms me. to live a life of calmness and space and rapt attention, that has been my dream, and today i am closer to that desired lifestyle . . .

gwen bell has developed a year’s worth of brief daily prompts intended to help cultivate a mindfulness lifestyle, and i am onboard. i am so onboard. today’s prompt: “Take time today to update your passwords. Make them bells of mindfulness, action-oriented words,” and so today finds me updating my passwords with verbs (and making sure everything is saved in 1password, the handiest software for mac users. it’s like having my own vault on the computer and on the iphone).

i also leapt into shuttersisters today. signed myself right up, committing to take and post a photo every day this year. i’m setting up a tumblr blog for the shuttersisters photos – i’ll let you know when it’s up and running, though i hasten to add that i am just a woman who enjoys photos, not a woman who would ever be confused with a photographer who knows what she’s doing.

january’s photo theme is create, and i’ve selected a photo of black-eyed peas, a southern staple – especially on new year’s day. thewordwire got me thinking about it yesterday, with her tweets about the southern delectables she was cooking up in her vegas kitchen. new years day is one of the rare days when i cook a full, resplendent meal, something my mother does frequently, and her mother did three times a day. i didn’t inherit the cooking gene – i don’t even collect cookbooks, though i’ve written a few from recipe collections of grandmothers.

my mother has an entire closet filled with plates and glasses and bowls. she sincerely enjoys entertaining, judging your love of her by how many times you go back for refills. she knows how to make people comfortable at her table. it is her native language.

her mother entered cake contests – and won a few, too. in the summer, she’d plant a huge garden, and every day would find her gathering items from the garden and cooking a big lunch (with biscuits made from scratch 3 times a day, i want you to know). the afternoons were spent shelling and shucking in the glider on the front porch then going inside for canning, freezing, and pickling.

these women that form the fabric of my matriarchal lineage created food that nourished and a table that welcomed.

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