Last night every sense in which humans are capable of having
(you know:
sight, smell, touch, taste, and hearing)
exploded at my house.
in a good way.
Smell and taste were very prominent.
But the hints of sight, touch, and hearing
were not far behind.
Last night we fed the farm.
(you know:
sight, smell, touch, taste, and hearing)
exploded at my house.
in a good way.
Smell and taste were very prominent.
But the hints of sight, touch, and hearing
were not far behind.
Last night we fed the farm.
That means that we created dinner for the three families that live on the farm.
We had home-made chili,
baked potatoes that had been rolled in oil, salted, and poked, then baked,
green salad with bacon,
and fresh banana bread.
Life smelled so good last night.
it tasted even better.
We listened as our sweet neighbor M blessed the food.
The dinner table was set with summer dishes,
brightly colored to encourage summer to last one day more.
We shook hands, symbolizing friendship, almost-family,
We sat and talked.
and it made me
remember
that my life has been compiled of the many senses
yes, the days of my life have been created from
beautiful and dark colors
like the Arizona sunset
and the blackness of lonely days.
on-key and off-key tones
like Martina McBride singing Blessed
and the sting of an unkind comment
gentle and firm hands
like a righteous priesthood holder
AND
delicious and not-so delicious gourmets
like white chicken lasagna
or
alligator or horse, for that matter.
and inviting and off-putting smells.
like newborn baby after a tubby or coffee.
Things such as:
the reason I still can't stomach much fish
because it automatically reminds me of
the one time I ate my Grandma's fish
and it made me throw up.
I was 10
The taste of Snickers
One of the first things I ate when
the diabetic research changed and
now instead of cutting out sugar
we counted carbohydrates.
The inner conflict
of movie popcorn.
Seeing my mom's grateful
smile, and hearing her excitement
after I swept the floor
because
"House"
was my favorite game when I was 7,
and then standing next to my mom making cookies
that made my make-believe house come to life.
Hearing Eponine sing
"On my own,"
being able to smell the rain surrounding her
and memorizing every word,
because having never been kissed at 17
seemed like life's cruel punishment.
The touch of David's hands
and the sound of his voice
the first time he called me
Brandi Ann Johnson
and invited healing for the sick.
Today, my life is still full of vivid senses
It's full of the senses that make up a
happily married
wife and
a happily employed, mother
(it's my job. And who says employment has to be monetary?)
I'm grateful for the times the Lord has guided me as I
forgot to smell, hear, see, touch, and taste
of His goodness.
For these times I am grateful mostly
because His ideas for the
sights and smells of my life
outweigh
the minimalized polaroid
I would have created for myself.
baked potatoes that had been rolled in oil, salted, and poked, then baked,
green salad with bacon,
and fresh banana bread.
Life smelled so good last night.
it tasted even better.
We listened as our sweet neighbor M blessed the food.
The dinner table was set with summer dishes,
brightly colored to encourage summer to last one day more.
We shook hands, symbolizing friendship, almost-family,
We sat and talked.
and it made me
remember
that my life has been compiled of the many senses
yes, the days of my life have been created from
beautiful and dark colors
like the Arizona sunset
and the blackness of lonely days.
on-key and off-key tones
like Martina McBride singing Blessed
and the sting of an unkind comment
gentle and firm hands
like a righteous priesthood holder
AND
delicious and not-so delicious gourmets
like white chicken lasagna
or
alligator or horse, for that matter.
and inviting and off-putting smells.
like newborn baby after a tubby or coffee.
Things such as:
the reason I still can't stomach much fish
because it automatically reminds me of
the one time I ate my Grandma's fish
and it made me throw up.
I was 10
The taste of Snickers
One of the first things I ate when
the diabetic research changed and
now instead of cutting out sugar
we counted carbohydrates.
The inner conflict
of movie popcorn.
Seeing my mom's grateful
smile, and hearing her excitement
after I swept the floor
because
"House"
was my favorite game when I was 7,
and then standing next to my mom making cookies
that made my make-believe house come to life.
Hearing Eponine sing
"On my own,"
being able to smell the rain surrounding her
and memorizing every word,
because having never been kissed at 17
seemed like life's cruel punishment.
The touch of David's hands
and the sound of his voice
the first time he called me
Brandi Ann Johnson
and invited healing for the sick.
Today, my life is still full of vivid senses
It's full of the senses that make up a
happily married
wife and
a happily employed, mother
(it's my job. And who says employment has to be monetary?)
I'm grateful for the times the Lord has guided me as I
forgot to smell, hear, see, touch, and taste
of His goodness.
For these times I am grateful mostly
because His ideas for the
sights and smells of my life
outweigh
the minimalized polaroid
I would have created for myself.
3 comments:
Such a poet!
My favorite line: "the inner confilct of movie-popcorn" - wow, it IS such a conflict!
The smell of butter and corn entice the senses as soon the theater door is open - demanding your brain to feed the intoxicated craving of salty, warm, buttery crunchy popped-corn. But then the brain reaserts its logical dominion- it's too expensive, it's a waste of money, not to mention the fat globules that will just accumulate to the hips. Just Keep Walking!, you'll live through the desire. But....it SMELLS SO GOOD! But.... But.... yes, Brandy, it is definetly an "inner conflict". You could not have penned it any better!
I will now be more cognisent of my 'inner conflict' the next time I enter a movie theater.
Movie theater popcorn...my favorite snack...seriously. When I die...buy a tub of popcorn and think of me. I cave every time I walk through those movie theater doors. I love, love, love it. The smell of fresh buttered popcorn wafting through the theater tempting my tastebuds. I CAVE!
Sis, you seriously know how to write. You should write a book.
Thank you! That was beautiful and thought provoking. We love you!
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