Sausage, Eggs, Honey, Maria Callas

I don’t know why I am writing about sausage, eggs and honey, accompanied by Maria Callas singing “The Gypsy Song” from the opera “Carmen”.   I don’t know why the eggs didn’t break this morning as I was holding them above the skillet tapping them with a knife.

There are different ways of breaking an egg and it depends on what you are making with that egg, what you are holding below them.  A mixing bowl a pan a little dish? One chef suggests just tapping it on a flat surface like your counter or table.  He said it works every time.  Not for me, the egg just ends up having starburst tiny lines all over it and then when you try to get the egg to split and spill its contents it is a mushy eggy shelly mess.

When I crack the egg on the side of the bowl sometimes it works and sometimes not.  My favorite way is to tap it with a butter knife along its middle.  It usually works, the egg comes out whole and the shell does not disintegrate.

I have been eating too many eggs. I love eggs.  Over easy, scrambled, poached, soft-boiled like M.F.K Fisher loved:   boil your egg very gently until the white is cooked and the yolk still runny and silky smooth.  The perfect sauce.  Then put it in a small bowl, add a pat of fresh, unsalted butter, a sprinkle of coarse salt, and a few cracks of fresh pepper. Heaven!   Unless you hate soft runny things.

I bought too many eggs over the Thanksgiving holiday, thinking there would be recipes calling for many eggs.  There was just one and now I have two cartons of eggs in the fridge that must be eaten.  By me. What is better than eggs, toast, and bacon or sausage, potatoes maybe, all crusty brown and creamy soft inside!  Jam or marmalade, steaming cups of black coffee with a little cream…especially leftover vanilla infused whipped cream from Thanksgiving’s pumpkin pie…… floating on top of your black coffee and then falling down your throat like melted clouds.

Today is a cold, to some bleak morning, most of the leaves gone on the trees except the four across the street by the school, almost intact, still in shades of yellow, red and green, almost complete like persevering humans.  The peach climbing rose in the garden is still clinging to the rose arbor, the leaves green as Irish clover.

The gardener came yesterday to finish fall cleanup… picking up the rest of the leaves, scooping up the wilted mushy piles of hostas, cutting down the last of the snapdragons in the window boxes…  they were not ready to go, still sending out blooms though faded and pale. I wanted to keep them, thinking they would send out a burst of color like snapdragons often do late in fall.  But we cut them down to make room for the Christmas greens.  I should have put the greens in yesterday or the day before when it was prematurely warm.. 50’s..today it’s in the 30’s. Soon the dirt in the pots will be too hard and I will have to pour hot water over them and then try to stick the branches in, making what should be a wonderful happy chore into a frustrating cursing thing.

Yesterday, walking through the park, I could have stayed there forever….. the Bald Cypress’ scattering their needles in pools of thick brown velvet. I almost wanted to fall down and sleep there … the hybrid oaks like massive sculptures still holding on to their long crinkled leaves … the large yellow irises that sent out premature buds and  bloomed a couple of weeks ago like they do in June… with huge chiffony flowers.. are now lying in yellow puddles like the egg yolks I ate this morning.

The maples, the lindens, the willows in the nun’s garden….. the newly planted trees with their feeding bags like horses in the meadows….  thistly horned prickly fuzzy twigs and branches, seeds and pods of all the flowers and grasses, crinkling rustling singing late autumn songs….. the trees all seemed to be sighing, trying to tell me something. If I listened close enough I might be able to fathom what deep secret they are hiding. Trees have deep secrets, that I know.

The grass still green as summer… the white arbor holding up the last remnants of the autumn clematis, some clusters of purple asters still blooming..  the voluptuous drying hydrangeas everywhere thick and brown like caramel crunch, coffee with too much cream, like crispy browned onions in the pan.

The sky grey, pearly, and distant, the clouds perfumed with the scents rising up from the ground, all the disintegrated flowers and herbs shooting straight up to those golden towers lingering there like night jasmine in a summer garden.  Sometimes you can feel it all waiting. Waiting and sighing. Waiting for us all to behave, to start fresh, or maybe to just end.

I couldn’t rake the leaves this year, the first time in 17 years.  The gardener had to do it.  He was noisy, a bit sloppy and his pants kept sliding down his behind showing his naked skin looking cold and weird in the fading garden, the 35 degree weather.  And that noisy blower and gasoline smell….Then he asked me if he should use a rake.  I said “Yes, please.”

I love raking out the garden even if it takes hours and hours…. the slow sure raking of the jeweled leaves, some matte, some shiny, some leathery, others thin and translucent like the skin of an old lady tucking herself into bed…… this orderly putting away of summer’s charms gives me peace, a sense of direction, of calm, of seasonal balance… putting my mind and body right, at ease.  Just to take a breath of frosty autumn air, tinged with all the faded dying things, yet full of luscious fragrances like apples baking in the oven, exploding with all of nature’s buried charms.   The leaves in every color, the gleaming grass still smelling of summer, showing the imprints of my happy feet… the scent of burning incense, the violet smoke, the ruby sky, the piles of leaves on the curb like my harvest, my grain, my wheat, my barley, corn and lentils to make my very own Ezekiel bread…. the hard tack of sustenance to keep me going. Like eating raw earth, shoving it into your mouth with insatiable desire to stave off hunger, sickness and death, the coming cold and gales of winter.

The eggs I got out of the carton this morning were very small perfectly oval eggs, brown  and “organic” meaning eggs like the ones our grandparents or maybe great great grandparents ate.  I tapped the egg and it didn’t break, not even a tiny hairline crack.    I tapped and tapped.  Nothing.  Then a shiver of fear and loathing came over me, that there was something inside of the egg. Some slimy blood-washed tiny creature who did not want to come out… fearing a beak or a little leg peeping through I almost tossed the egg, then just tapped harder and it came— perfect round yolks surrounded by a firm, pellucid albumen. The shells harder than any I ever saw, almost a double shell, one brown and then another layer like insulation.  Against the cold the ugly, the poison, as though that egg wanted to stay inside.  I looked at its perfect shape and reluctantly threw out the shells, hard as porcelain.

I fried the eggs in butter marveling still at their perfect shape and size.  I made white toast –a sometimes aberration–  put three fat slices of sausages in a cold pan, the kind you use in stuffing for a turkey, almost reeking of sage and loaded with salt… I  drizzled the toast with honey and ate that rich fatty buttery salty breakfast perfumed with the honey of a thousand flowers.

Then suddenly I heard a voice, it was Maria Callas on the radio. A sultry velvety voice full of longing and pain.  Even her happy songs had a little pain. She looked like pain, like beautiful Grecian pain, like a vase found in some archaeological site sill intact but just holding on, fragile, delicate,  and tough yet about to shatter into dust…. her long regal nose, her dark coiling hair falling down her trembling shoulders…those painted Cleopatra eyes… always searching for her Anthony searching and searching.  They said her voice was one of “perfect imperfection”.  Velvety in the middle, steely and almost shrill at the top and the high notes were “shrieks”.  But the drama, the emotion, the passion was unparalleled.  Her voice was life itself.

I remembered  a story I heard about her… this beautiful, famous, rich artist, the companion of Aristotle Onassis, who at the end of her life was so lonely she only wanted  a little dish of ice cream… after walking home with a friend in New York after a dinner party. He was about to go home to his wife and children and she spied a gelateria on the corner and asked him to please go in with her, she didn’t want to go home…. could they just have a little dish of ice cream…. She was so lonely then, already losing her voice…. a dish of ice cream is all she wanted.

And now, listening to her singing the “Gypsy Song” from “Carmen”,  I eat my eggs and toast and honey and I want nothing, nothing at all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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About O

I live in a suburb of an American City. I write to try and understand myself and the world around me. I love nature, art, music, literature and beauty in all its forms. I think the world is crazy and many of us will soon go insane from living in this world. What I love almost more than anything is my garden. I love its trees its shrubs and its many flowers. I love the birds, their flying and singing and dancing movements in and out of the sky and garden. Their freedom. I could watch birds all day long, though sometimes they act horribly, and fight and squabble over the birdbath, seeds, and space just like people. As do other animals, and sometimes you wonder if anger, violence, greed and chaos, really has to be part of life, and why. I love to work in my garden. To get muddy and dirty, digging, weeding, mowing, pruning and deadheading. Then, I like to have a cool glass of white wine or red, or sometimes a Manhattan, and drink in hand, I walk around and look at the fruits of my labor. My blog is whennothingworks because for a long time nothing has worked. Friends, family, jobs, money, fame, houses, careers, lovers, things--- it all just doesn't work sometimes, or most of the time. The garden always works. Nature and its beauty always work. Whatever your garden is and wherever it is. My garden always gives peace, delight, calm, majesty, and beauty. And, in my garden, I can sit quietly and think, or just breathe, and somehow manage to survive the world.
This entry was posted in Always the Garden, Eating, Drinking, Cooking, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

26 Responses to Sausage, Eggs, Honey, Maria Callas

  1. Natalie says:

    Absolutely stunning passage on beauty in its many forms. Loved this!

    Like

    • O says:

      Thank you so much! For taking the time to read and for your wonderful comment!

      O

      On Sun, Dec 4, 2016 at 1:44 PM, whennothingworks wrote:

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      Like

  2. ladycee says:

    How I have missed reading your work. Wonderful, evocative and passionate as usual.

    Like

    • O says:

      Thank you Ladycee, for your always kind comments and enthusiasm. And as ever, your timing is quite uncanny. Thank you so much. O

      On Sun, Dec 4, 2016 at 11:39 PM, whennothingworks wrote:

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      Liked by 1 person

    • O says:

      Ladycee

      PLEASE PRAY FOR ME! fOR MY SISTER WHO HAS GONE MISSING!!!

      PLEASE ASK GOD TO BRING HER BACK.

      o

      On Sun, Dec 4, 2016 at 11:39 PM, whennothingworks wrote:

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      Liked by 1 person

      • ladycee says:

        I am so sorry to hear that and will.

        Like

      • O says:

        Thank you!

        O

        On Wed, Feb 8, 2017 at 2:08 PM, whennothingworks wrote:

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        Liked by 1 person

      • ladycee says:

        I am sorry I have only seen this today 8 Feb. O.

        Like

      • O says:

        That’s ok. I feel like I know you from all your comments on my posts……. something made me reach out to you this morning….. my sister is missing in the Virgin Islands somwhere we have not heard from her since Sat police here and there looking for her……..I am beside myself I believe in prayer and that some people’s prrayers really work and God will listen to them……. Near hysteria here…. .

        God help us!

        O

        On Wed, Feb 8, 2017 at 2:09 PM, whennothingworks wrote:

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      • ladycee says:

        Hello O, my husband and I have just prayed together for your sis and I will continue to pray. When you get any further news please let me know.

        Like

      • O says:

        Thank you so much ladycee! Thank you so much. We are hoping that my sister is just a bit dazed somewhere or hurt or lost and disoriented and the police will find her……. she has been through so much already… she had two brain surgeries in March 2014 and was found dying on the floor of her office and was saved in 2014 through the surgeries.

        Thank you. Please God hear our Prayers!

        O

        On Wed, Feb 8, 2017 at 2:26 PM, whennothingworks wrote:

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      • ladycee says:

        Ok O, before you told me this I prayed if she has lost her memory and does not know who she is or where she’s from that God will cause her memory to return to her intact, or that she will be found and returned safely. We have turned the matter over into God’s hands and will have to trust him to do his part.

        Like

      • O says:

        Hello ladycee,

        She is ok basically after her surgery but has some short term memory lapse but it’s not that so mucy she has traveled before and is workgin again etc…… we hope it is just that and not something else. Just don’t know. She was on vacation alone and missed her flight back but she does not return calls etc……. please God don’t let her be in any harms way….

        Thanks again

        O

        On Wed, Feb 8, 2017 at 2:42 PM, whennothingworks wrote:

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        Liked by 1 person

      • ladycee says:

        Hi O, thank you for the update. We commit your sis into the loving hands of our Father God. We ask for divine protection for her and ask that God’s peace will fill your mind and heart whilst you await news.

        Like

      • O says:

        thank you so much can’t tell you thank you

        O

        On Wed, Feb 8, 2017 at 4:43 PM, whennothingworks wrote:

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        Liked by 1 person

      • O says:

        PRAISE GOD ALMIGHTY!!!!! SISTER FOUND ALIVE FELL HIKING IN PARK and fell dehydrated ect but alive etc in hospital now.

        THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU

        o

        On Wed, Feb 8, 2017 at 4:43 PM, whennothingworks wrote:

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        Liked by 1 person

      • ladycee says:

        Hallelujah! Thank the Lord God Almighty! I am so happy to hear this O. So happy to hear this. Praise God.😃💖😁

        Like

      • O says:

        Ladycee

        Yes Indeed praise God Almighty! I have been wavering in my faith the last few weeks for many reasons. This ordeal with my sister the last couple of days has opened my eyes again….. I know that it is God who saved her and I can never doubt again…the joy we felt when we found out she was alive yesterday was indescribable.

        And, I know that your prayers all those miles away and your husband….. God listened. The last note you sent was particularly touching and supportive. Can’t really articulate it anymore… how grateful I am and glad I reached out to you.

        Please keep me and my sister in your prayers the next few days as I travel to the Virgin Islands to go get her and bring her home…Thank you so much to both of you!

        O

        On Wed, Feb 8, 2017 at 11:29 PM, whennothingworks wrote:

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        Liked by 1 person

      • ladycee says:

        Dear O, I am so so glad your faith in God has been restored. What a beautiful way for God to show his love grace and mercy. I can just imagine how joyful you felt. I was so relieved when I read the news that she’d been found. I will of course keep you and your sis in my prayers. Have a safe journey to the VI and back home. 😃

        Like

      • O says:

        Dear Ladycee

        Thank you! Again and again. Not going to VI after all. Sister being taken care of by angels the police have been the angels…. … she is resting in a peaceful beautiful serene place with food water juice flowers sea and sun and yes the grace and magnificence of her holy saviour….. then we will get her home in a couple of days– she is burned bruised scarred shaken up by being outside for almost 3 days without water and food…

        O

        On Thu, Feb 9, 2017 at 3:25 PM, whennothingworks wrote:

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        Liked by 1 person

      • ladycee says:

        Dear O, I am sorry to hear that and will pray for a speedy and miraculous recovery. The Lord bless you and strengthen you and continue to give you peace as you wait for your sister’s full recovery. I’m off to bed now so will bid you goodnight.

        Like

      • O says:

        Thank you so much for your prayers and inspirational messages! Pleasant dreams..

        O

        On Thu, Feb 9, 2017 at 3:46 PM, whennothingworks wrote:

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        Liked by 1 person

      • ladycee says:

        And can I just add O, contrary to the title of your blog – prayer works!

        Like

      • ladycee says:

        God is good! 😁😃💖

        Like

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