Friday, September 9, 2011

Carib Being HouseMaiden

while half the world was gnashing, and another quarter protesting, this morning< i awoke to breeze at the front door. i never go there or do that. and just as i thought to get settled there, perhaps, with a book. I ended up picking fruits in the neighborhood. with the sun blinding my view through the leaves. Whilst in this endeavor, everyone who walked by said Good Morning. To the boys, I had to initiate. And then this wonderful old school old world mature man walked by. Said to me, look some quite there. And asked me to hold his bag and reached for the picker. I just watched him. The shoe heels worn out at the outer corners, the old clothes, but if you see gentle and sense mannerly. And he talked of how people leave fruits on trees; he did not class them as I now lean to, except to say, people are now "strange". He said, they leave the manna but if they see you picking, they will come and pick, to sell. Only wanting when they discover others have or hold value for what ever it may be. He talked how long ago people picked and shared. After just a little while, he said, okay my time is up. And I said you will take some with you. And he said, only two, I am going to visit a ladyfriend and will bring her those two. The man walked off with me thinking, wheys...too many thoughts to extract from their interminglingness of one short concept experience. Surely, they dont make them like him no more.

Then as I turned, another neighbor called out to me asking me, "M____, you did not eat enough of that as a child?" And I had to remind her, I left remember. Then she asked if I would come pick her grapefruits/but they were too high..then we reminsce of her yard, her house, and how her father used to call me by the gate to share bounty. The housekeeper saying, once i returned, he ceased to call anybody else. just me. Then i give her a heckle for cutting down all her trees, except a few/ And told her when she ready let me buy; and she tells me how it leaving for generation...all of them away. I tell her dont leave no house and land for it to wither, you know. But leh she do just that. Is me occupying flat. will claim it as blood and family land. Multigenerations of two families share that range.

 Life is good. I am thankful. Much Greatitude. And now as I finally settle with tea, wonder, if that is all I am to be doing...being a carib wombmyn being of a time, outtatiming, gone by. While everyone rushing and rummaging to and fro, in heels and ties, and I chasing breezes.

then as me and Florence return home, I tell her, Florence, people are funny eh? The bucket full but folk only take two. whas that?

so..i returned home, washed fruit, grilled turkey steaks, chopped pumpkin, carrots and pakchoy, seasoned the first two with small thyme, garlic, seasoning pepper and olive oil. tossed and let sit; the pakchoy with just oil, next to it. I imagine these parts to mix and eat raw or just slightly heated with rice. Then I made five finger juice of what i pick this morning...with guava orchard as the base

Now i think, isnt this funny I am a good and proper housemaiden>

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