Assorted bean soup for a rainy day in LA and some thoughts about love (making)

Although she does not go to school Georgia has registered herself (by demand) to an afternoon "home work club." A program run by the city in our neighborhood park which allows kids to get help with homework after school.
Georgia, as I have mention before, is going through a Pokemon stage and that, for now, is the main incentive for going (so she could exchange 'valuables' with the other collecting club mates).
Of course, she is supposed to finish her assignment of work first.
Assignment being; writing a chapter of her own book.
For now her title is "A 7 year old journal." She has written quite a few very cute chapters that left us in awe, but as soon as we put it out there that she should write a chapter every time she goes to "Home Work Club" it wasn't interesting anymore.
That's how it works with Georgia.
Still, as I sit here and try to figure out what is most on my mind (besides food) to put down today, I can't help envy the ease with witch Georgia's pure and unencumbered psyche comes up with themes. True, her themes are a little underdeveloped and straightforward, but that is the enviable quality I so strive to achieve.
A 7 year old chapter (re the Horrid Henry one, Georgia's favorite book at the moment )can astonish with it's straightforward ease of flow, not to mention the incredible drawings that accompany some of the pages.
Call me crazy, but how do I achieve that?
Well, as an overloaded adult the only true writing comes from becoming a master editor. Yes, sadly good writing is good editing.





Being a person of accumulated memory and experience, I find my mind takes me on whimsical journeys of a sort that take me by surprise. It is my task to make sense of them and to put them down coherently.
Last night I found myself in my Grandfather and Grandmother's fruit tree garden (yes, like the Garden of Eden, exactly!). My grandparents had every fruit tree you could imagine in their yard, Including a huge Avocado and pecan tree. Looking back I can't believe the assortment of fruits they had. I don't recall my Grandpa, or Grandma doing anything special besides watering in order to get their trees to yield all that delicious fruit: There was plums (yellow and purple) pomegranate, clementines, small red berries of a sort unknown here, which my grandma would use to make preserves and another exotic fruit I have not seen here, kumquat and orange. When the grand kids came for holiday visits we were all over the trees picking and eating straight off the trees. My parents lived in a city apartment and so this (my grandparents' house) was the house of my childhood. Also the house were I spent my army years and lost my virginity when I moved to live with them at 19. Yes, I was a virgin until then.
Last night I was in that balcony on the second floor, the little guest quarters where I spent that time of my youth. I could smell the plum blossom and I saw the view of that little neighborhood on the outskirts of the big city, with the triangular roofs and electric lines and TV antennas, I saw myself sitting on the cold marble, leaning against the iron rail (which I could smell clearly as well), in that state of young pining I had forgotten all about. It is my acute memory of scent that had brought back the plum blossom beneath me as i sat there. In my reminiscent state of mind I remembered the smell of the air on that hot summer night and I remembered the way my youthful mind entertained the excitement in reliving secret moments of love from the night before (oh, if my grandfather found out!).
That house has been demolished for many years now, a big rich monster built instead by the new owner who purchased the land from the feuding siblings - the ones who were the beloved aunts and uncles of my childhood.
How ugly it all became since, have I?
I hope not. It is another life though, could easily be someone else's. The girl that I once was, so far from me now and when my brain brings her back so vividly, so alive, when I literally smell her thoughts - a lump forms in my throat. I just want to hug her, like I never did when she was me. And she needed a hug - from me.
What up? I asked my brain at the end of the day.
It was last night's love making that brought it on.
Stolen moments of closeness with Daniel after Georgia and Wylder finally fell asleep.
Some nights, it's suddenly different. Magically, a moment of connection that hankers back to something the mind didn't know it remembered.
And I know I could write a whole book about her, she whom I once was. Looking back and having the advantage of knowing - it turned out pretty interesting - her life did - for her.
This however, and without undermining the beauty, is mine.




Assorted bean soup for a rainy day in LA.
2 cups of assorted beans soaked over night.
5 strips of bacon.
1 healthy looking onion,
2 big carrots chopped.
4 celery stalks chopped.
1 fresh fennel chopped.
1 can of roasted tomatoes,
or 4 freshly cubed tomatoes. ( I dont' bothrer blanching and peeling if I use fresh)
4 cups of soup stock of your choice.
1 tspoon of cumin seeds,
1 tsp fennel seeds,
3 sprigs of fresh herbs, preferably thyme.
sea salt,
Malabar pepper.
Lots of parsley for garnish and nourishment. Mint is good too.
To make.
In a very big pot let the bacon yeild it's wonderful fat over high heat.
throw in vegetables and let soften, but don't thoroughly cook.
add herbs.
Wash and clean the soaked beans and pour into the pot.
Add the tomatoes, and cook for 5 minutes,
Add soup stock and salt and pepper.
Bring to light simmer partially cover (leave the crack in the lid so it doesn't over boil)
Cook on low heat for 11/2 - 2 hours,
Check to see desired texture.
When ready to serve drizzle olive oil and sprinkle parsley.
YOu can also puree part of the soup and pour it back to the pot for added thickness.
Daniel and I have been enjoying this soup 3 days now
It keeps getting better:-)
Enjoy!