Somewhere, in the middle of nowhere
A housewife sits by her nook table
Peeling Garlic.
The pods feel snug in her hand
Like a prank gift
Wrapped in layers of tissue.
She uses her paring knife
And remembers a tip from a chef's video
Trying to pry out the cloves
Like a magician pulls out bunnies from his hat!
No such luck, no such magic
Happens at her humble nook table
In her clumsy butter fingers!
She leaves magic to magicians and tries to do some 'being present'
"Zen isn't peeling potatoes and thinking of God
Zen is peeling potatoes"
The tidbit reminds her to be in Zen
And just peel garlic, and not to think of God
Or the evening dinner that needs to be cooked
Or an insult she endured as a teen
And the comebacks she thinks of now
After all these years,
To those bullies and ruffians.
She pulls her mind back to the present
As she pulls out the juicy cloves
That transfer their pungency to her fingertips
May be to her apron and dress as well, in the process!
She thinks yet again, of the laundry load
Of a shower to wash off the linger of smell.
"Phew" she exclaims
"Why do you fly off my hands like a helium balloon?"
As the pod keeps slipping off her dainty fingers.
"Are you speaking to a garlic?"
The toddler stops coloring and looks up in disbelief
Her mom doesn't cease to surprise her.
Just the other day, the mom spoke to the seedlings in her veggie patch.
Cuckoo lady.
Isn't it a blessing, almost a favor
That the members of the family are blissfully unaware
Of what the cuckoo lady writes?
An ode to peeling garlic!
Among other goofy topics.
May be the housewife
Somewhere in the middle of nowhere
Is better off speaking to herself
Or to a garlic pod.
It might seem odd,
But she doesn't seem to ask for anyone to applaud.
Photo credit - Skitterphoto
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