Holiday Pasta |
My sister's yard buddy (above) that shed an antler in Colorado is just another reminder of how nothing is permanent.
Consistent, predictable maybe, but not permanent. When P goes away I tend to make huge pots of spaghetti with meat sauce and eat like a savage. It's been a comfort to me, when alone to overeat as I've done for years and years. This went back to when my parents would work all day and night, I would use television and spaghetti as a security blanket after school. I was scared to be alone in a big house at night in a bad neighborhood. Television characters would feel like familiar friends that livened up the otherwise dark, silent house and food filled a hole that was too hollow to leave empty. For more nights then I care to remember, I was paralyzed with fear that someone was breaking into the house through the basement or one of it's many entrances. I'd go through and check all the locks including the dreaded triple kitchen door that lead to the outside as well as to the unlit, drafty basement. That door was massive and had a giant latch that once put in place, seemed to make the house go quiet. To this day I have recurring nightmares of that house and finding mysterious wide opened doors at night. Here and now, I do get a little scared in New York riding home at night but generally speaking, I feel safe when home. For the first time, in I don't know how long, I didn't feel the need to overeat this year, although to some, this might be a giant plate. I ate until I was full and made lunch boxes and froze the rest.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Just nod if you can hear me. Is there anyone at home?