We slow cooked two bags of dried beans today. They soaked overnight, and cooked on low for hours. Five bags in the freezer, extras for dinner with avocado and tomatoes and lime over red quinoa.
I have an aversion to fast.
When things speed up I slow down. My head spins and I grab for something sturdy and solid. Or soft and cushioned.
My friend that we visited the other day had her baby this morning. A little boy, and I can't wait to breathe in the top of his head and tear up as she gives details of his coming, and to simmer sauces and stuff shells and bring slow food and soft love.
I had a dream the other night that I had dread locks. I must have been channeling Anne Lamott... but they were fabulous. And I wore my long flowy skirt that's been hidden in my drawer all winter, and raised my hands to the sun and twirled in bare feet with grass underfoot. It was sunny and warm and heavenly. I recently heard myself saying that the older I get the more hippy'ish I become. And I think that's ok. {Don't worry mom and dad - and Lucas - I will not be sporting dread locks any time soon... }
The sweater I started last week is finished {details here... }. It fits and it's soft and gives me a cushion between myself and the outside world. Sometimes it's necessary... as my slowing doesn't always align with the worlds speeding...