Eggplant and Lasting Friendships
Hello All,
Summer, gardens, family reunions, and teaching–all add up to quiet blog time. I returned from a long, long road trip late last night (about 2,000 plus driving miles) to find this email below from my dear friend, Lori, who like me, has moved many times.
It is timely. My first act this morning–peer out the window at my garden. The second: a cup of coffee. The third: a trip with a wooden bowl and a knife to gather my goodies, one of them a beautiful eggplant. Here’s the email from Lori:
Hi Jackie,
I just spent the past hour tearing up my house in search of your poem about growing eggplants. Alas, too many moves … it is in hiding, I am afraid.
Can you help an old friend and forward a copy to me? It is one of your most memorable for me. Many thanks and blessings to you – Lori
Here’s the poem, I think Lori is asking for:
Today This Jar of Pickles Is My Poem
I struggle with domesticity
as I sterilize jars, clear
pack fresh cucumbers, garlic
sharp smelling dill
breathe steaming vinegar
vapor that unclouds the brain
Lids bounce in boiling water
I fish for one and quickly seal
each jar, this could be a poem
each jar, this a painting
each jar, I question
and justify
An early April morning I worked in the dirt
shoveled compost cursed flies
organic clumps on my heavy boots
I imagined lavender blooms turning eggplant purple
Later, I shaped mounds to protect tender roots
planted tiny dill seeds and the rains came
planted dill and they came again
planted dill that flourished
I bordered the plot with marigolds
giants, yellow and orange
basil and sage
I pencilled plans
hammered stakes ran strings to mark my rows
hoed a long pain into my spine
On gray winter days
sculptures in glass on my shelf
green peppers and cayennes twist in to form
zucchinis and crookneck yellows
wind, curve around each other
speckled beans, mosaics
I take down jar after jar
chill or heat the colors
shapes, lines
patterns that turn to food and are eaten
Jacquelyn Markham
The title of one of my collections of poetry is Lavender Blooms Turn Eggplant Purple. Eggplants feature in other stories and artwork too.
Thank you Lori for bringing me to this poem this evening after a wonderful morning of harvest and abundance!
Jackie
Dennis Markham wrote:
Thank you Jackie for sharing your poem…I could smell the vinegar as I read. Your description is timeless….I brought back images of our Grandmother performing the same tasks, working over her green and white porcelain gas stove, standing on the worn linoleum kitchen floor of her old house, with the chill of a Michigan fall day seeping past her half-raised, yellowed window shade–brittle from time. Thank you for your poem–nudging some thoughts in the dusty corners of my memory.
Posted on 17-Jul-07 at 8:08 am | Permalink
Jacquelyn Markham wrote:
Thank you, Dennis,for those memories from “the dusty corners.”
I remember, too, mother (how she had the time, who knows?) canning the Concord grapes (deep purple juice), tomatoes (open kettle), and of course, the pungent smelling Kosher dills.
Canning is a ritual I love. Did you know, some studies say only 2% of the population puts up fruit and vegetables today?
I’d like to know if that’s really accurate. Do you know anyone who still “puts by” a vegie or two? Maybe some jars of jelly or marmalade?
Thanks for visiting the site and making a comment.
Posted on 17-Jul-07 at 8:34 pm | Permalink
Rose wrote:
How lovely your poem is. Yes canning, jelly making, gardening, are all works of love and art.
thank you from a canner, gardener and ginger pear honey maker….rose
Posted on 28-Jul-07 at 2:25 pm | Permalink
Sister Patti wrote:
Dear, Dear Sister Jackie,
Thanks for the eggplant poem. It made me wish I had planted eggplant too in the winter chill!!!
Like you, the first thing I did after a journey of million miles to the north, was to head to the small garden around the corner of the house … hopeful for my Okra abundance. Such an easy plant. Thank goodness for okra and zinnias … never needing much tending!
Posted on 05-Aug-07 at 12:16 am | Permalink
Jacquelyn Markham wrote:
Rose,
Ginger pear honey? We must have the recipe!
My kindred spirit Charlotte Perkins Gilman used to write about the benefits of a kitchenless home and I must say I once agreed with her!
But now, with commercialization of our food, I’m even cooking for my cats. That’s another subject…
Come back and visit me again. I love your visits…
Let’s hear about your textile creations!
Best to you–one of my lasting friendships.
Jackie
Posted on 26-Aug-07 at 10:22 pm | Permalink
Jacquelyn Markham wrote:
Patti,
Alice Walker wrote a book of essays call In Search of Our Mother’s Garden that I love. In the title essay, she says: “In search of our Mother’s gardens, we find our own.” I find that a provocative statement and I’ve reflected on it quite a bit. In any case, in tending our gardens, we do find something of ourselves that might otherwise be lost, don’t you think?
Another topic I’d like to bring up: heirloom seeds. I actually have a new poem about the topic and have been planting harvesting heirloom seeds this latest garden cycle. I’ll post the new poem, but since it’s the full moon tonight, I think I’ll post that first.
I’m behind on my communication anyway, so here it comes: a surge of creative energy–finally! The dog days are nearing an end! And I, too, am cutting Zinnias for my table and okra for my plate. Ahh….southern living has its advantages!
Visit me again, won’t you?
Sis
Posted on 26-Aug-07 at 10:29 pm | Permalink