Fatigued, Taste Buds

Thanks.  Was the ritual observed?  The part about wherein we stop and consider how remarkable life itself is and how blessed we are that live in a time of comparative peace.  That providing a feast for ones own and for others is not an unobtainable burden.  No.  This acknowledgment did not happen.  I was too busy cooking.  And by the time folks ate, I felt as if I’d just limped to the end of a marathon.  Middle school kids were eating, high school kids were eating, adults were eating.  It was all underway and I wouldn’t have wanted to interrupt the buffet, second helpings line to say:  "And now, let us give thanks.”

What rituals are left then?  There’s the food.  The bird and the gravy and the cranberries  There’s the family and the friends and the kids and the marshmallows on top of the sweet potato pie.  Our own traditions are only fifteen years or so but they involve inviting people who aren’t from the U.S. to join.  In California we’d invite the Chinese expats, here in China there is a richness of non-American candidacy, and perhaps a few U.S. citizens who are let in on a dispensation.  The kids used to do a play about the pilgrims and the Indians but they don’t want to do that any longer. 

One guests wants to do another shot of vodka.  Yes, he’s from Russia.  Another has taken an Anthology of Japanese Literature from my shelf.  I search in vain for a remarkable poem about a woman sailing from Honshu to Shikoku.  She can't set sail because of the threat of pirates. I try to explain to someone else with a bit too much enthusiasm just how it I have my book shelf orgnized:  “you see, here is everything about India . . .”  A colleague’s young daughter has taken to following me around and slapping my backside.  I smile and try to find the cat for her to play with.  They have much in common.

You prepare dishs all the day long, but it’s picking at them along the way when you really get to enjoy the tastes.  Mush up the rice and the tapenade and the apricots and the parsley and the olive oil and adjust to make the pepper stuffing taste right.  That is when tasting is alive.  Tasting things along with everyone else it’s too late.  Fatigued, taste buds saturated, the time for experimentation is over when dinner is served and all you do is make sure there no tastes that are particularly off.

Everyone seems to be eating well enough.  The kids are happy that there are so many pies.  These were the biggest risk of all and they blossomed into something that didn’t look like a first-time effort.  And flitting from conversation to conversation I noticed how tired my legs were.  I’ve been standing all day.  That never mattered much in the past but this drain is notable.  It happens when I teach for hours in a row as well, standing, pacing around.  And as I sit down and give my legs a rest it becomes clear that I am rather tired.