May 20, 2020
Today I continued my path toward procrastination… I should list this skill on my LinkedIn profile. There are many “to do” items on my list, even though we are in the middle of a difficult new reality of living. Somehow, I can get distracted being indoors… and unable to focus. The past few days the neighbor’s Loquat tree has been calling to me. The large leaves and bursting orange fruit makes me smile. The owner gave me permission to pick some of the fruit… so today, I left my indoors, and went outside to pick Loquats. I returned to the safety of my home to make Loquat Date Cardamom Jam.
The fruit is tiny and takes time to cut each little gem open and take out the 1-3 large seeds. Lots of tender loving time to ponder all kinds of important and frivolous feelings and thoughts. The process continues with the squeezing of the fresh lemon juice from a freshly picked lemon. Then the boiling of the fruit and the lemon juice and dates and a little sugar and cardamom. More steps to sterilize jars in a large pot of boiling water… working for the perfect timing of jam boiled to perfection and jars sterilized and ready to fill. And the final step of filled jars back into the boiling water to seal the creation.
A friend called at sunset, as is becoming a habit of when we both are feeling low about the day being done and not feeling accomplished. However, when I shared my jam making… he exclaimed how productive my day had been. The lure of the Loquats made my day not one of procrastination, but one of production. Sweet, sweet production.
The reward was finding this poem that blesses my day…
ode to a loquat tree by BabaCool Tombai
Bored
Indoor-ed
Drifting away on a thought
I can hear her rustling leaves
Calling me to squat
And lie below her swaying limbs
Oh, and so the longing begins
The memory of her flavor
Like a whisper
On the tip of my tongue
I've missed her
Long leaves and budding grace
Loved of Li-bai
But, aye, largely unsung
To tinker with her soft twigs
Twist-plucking bunches
From reachable rungs
I'd hunger for their wonder
But some so yellow and young
There's no need for haste
Leave time enough to ripen
Before fingers feeling
Peeling fuzzy skin
Unleash the taste
Of tart sweetness within
To which there is nothing to liken
How do describe it
I know not
The delicious allure
Of a dangling loquat
To wander outside and plant my ass
Alongside the other plants in the grass
Snacking
Watching clouds as they pass
No worries
No reasons
Ah, but alas
The mind-wandered dream I've conjured
Separated by a pane of glass
And another three seasons
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