Dangerous Compassions


“If I ever ask you to peel potatoes for me, it’s not me.  I was stolen by aliens, and I’ve become a pod person.  So go find my soul, and get it back.  I’m a Never Peel Potatoes kind of lady,” I announced to Ming.

“Ok,” he said.  I was re-washing the potatoes he had washed and left in the sink.  He’d missed little bits of potato eyes, and I rubbed their graininess and sometimes used my thumbnail to scrape off the little something.

“Unless I guess there’s some reason I never knew.  Some chemical thing, where the peel messed up the process?  I don’t know what that would be,” I added.  I was imaging some non-food use, some project where we were getting potato starch to make a craft, like wheatpasting.

Today’s stressy.  It can be confusing to balance the anxiety with the things that reduce the anxiety.  You know how something can cause anxiety short term but be healing longterm?  Like going to the doctor.  We hope it will be worth it.

I boiled the potatoes, and I checked on them.  Slid in the butter knife.  Did that go in easy enough?  I will put a lid on and let them sit a few more minutes. 

Then we drained the potato water into a pitcher to let it cool, then dump in the garden.  I thought maybe nutrients were in the potato water, that the plants might like?

Then I got overwhelmed and lay down a while in the dark.  Txted people a lot.  Recovered, made potato salad–yum yum!

Mostly I wanted to use some vinegar.  But I made a different version that had some vegan shiitake mushroom dressing and avocado.

We have our own vinegar–white, apple cider, malt, balsamic–and some cast off vinegar from friends who moved away.  White, white wine, red wine, balsamic.  So vinegary, around here!

Today is Passover.  We got a little Seder box.  Ming seems happy.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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