A View from the Fireside

Next to the fire
On a cold colourless rainy day
Feeling supremely phlegmatic about all things
The kind of wheeze that one can only dream about
A million thoughts run through my mind
Then I remember
The Cold comfort of visiting a wall
Suffering pangs of conscience
Suddenly blogging feels numbingly Cathartic
Quite liking coming back to this place
For now busyness can wait

The Delimma Of A Middle-aged Orphan

1978
A besotted night
A full-blooded knight
A dutiful dame
A cherished game
9 moons
A birth
A child
A son
A man
In the footsteps of time
A tragedy
A cruelty
A mother's unscheduled exit
A breached heart
Having never grieved
Sits like a stone in the corridor of anguish
Days and nights in flight
Seasons passing in haste
Years going in and out without care
The other night
The precious knight
Falls into perpetual sleep
In the path of the unending exodus
Now
With all the architects gone forever
In this silent autumn
I ask of those still around
Where are the happy dreamers?
What do I do with these memories?
Where do we belong?
Here?
There?
Left behind
I feel so abandoned

Whipping The Pumpkin Soup À La Carte

Eno Rose, my mother did a pretty decent job in training and coaching all her boys about the nuggets of the beautiful artistry of creating culinary delights.
Because of her, I do know a thing or two about good food Ghana-style.
Last Saturday I found myself reminiscing about the killer taste of nkatekwan with rice balls after participating in the big walk around Saxonwold Primary School.
The last time a ate that sumptuous combination was when I was in Ghana recently. The problem is nkatekwan a la South Africa is totally unlike what obtains in Ghana. Don't ask me why?
So instead, I decided to try something rather exotic: pumpkin soup.
I was in the mood for an adventure like you will never believe.
My wife, baffled by this unusual quest to turn the beautiful kitchen into something resembling a chemistry lab, decided to abandon ship leaving me alone unto my ridiculous cookery pursuit.
An hour or so later, unable to resist any longer the smell of the overwhelming magnificence emanating from the kitchen, she saunters into the kitchen, her face adorned with a curious smile depicting pleasant surprise. A moment to taste and indulge! The unplanned experiment turned the day into something more than expected: a beautiful date! Seeing how happy she was, I quickly realised how incredible an opportunity it was for both of us to explore and appreciate something new. To me, it was also an important lesson in the power of giving a helping hand at home.
As professionals, both of us spend our week days working hard. Evening meals, therefore, are mainly something quick and simple (mostly prepared by her) in order to prepare for the next day's work schedule.
So it was good to sit, eat, talk and enjoy each other's company unhurried at home, seduced by the goodness of the pumpkin soup.
And you know what?. I am so proud of myself!

My Creative Corner @ Home

Forget the study room. And also the dining room.
Sitting in front of the TV does not do it for me either.
The bedroom, hmmm, is for other essential services.
What does it for me is the shower.
I am talking about the particular spot at home where I am at my peak when it comes to generating creative ideas!
My time under the shower, under the torrents of precious warm water, is also the time when I am most imaginative, most creative and most artistic. Shower time tickles my creative fancy like nothing else.
You simply cannot believe some of the serious out-of–the-box thinking that goes on there. Many are the breathtaking speeches, the applause-inducing oratories, the award-winning performances, the fantastic presentations, the grandiose business ideas, the spectacular solutions to complex global mathematical formulations, the angelic melodies and other einsteinian discoveries that have taken place right under the shower.
The problem is: the creative juices quickly dry up as soon as I get out of the shower.
Why is that the case?