Things getting to you, put on a stew

February and March are a mischievous months---times of climatic mood swings—a sharp reminder that winter is not yet over. And I’m glad.

In a society as complicated as ours, I embrace the simplification winter brings us. Winter shows you that the essentials of life are heat, food, shelter and a good decongestant. Everything else is fluff.

Weather bound inside our homes and with nothing much to do we listen to the media tell us that homelessness is up, terrorists are at the back door, big corporations have no heart, the jobless rate will only increase, private businesses will fail and there is no hope for next year. Everyone gets stressed out, their blood pressure rises--- they go into a frenzy.

Not me, I cook.

Winter stews are a favorite of mine because they require hands-on attention. You can’t handle an AK-47 automatic and blow away 20 people at the mall if you’re home peeling potatoes---simple logistics. So you stay home and pull out the big pot that is kept out in the garage on top of the outdoor refrigerator and head back into the kitchen.

There is nothing more peaceful than preparing the ingredients for a stew. You’ve instantly taken your mind off of yourself and spend time with things gentle and quiet like celery, onions and some quality Russets. You rummage in the pantry and find two cans of tomatoes, thaw out a chuck roast and you’re ready to go. The neat part is you get to handle a 12 inch meat cleaver. People coming through the kitchen take care not to rattle you as you bring the cleaver down and whack off a six –inch chunk of raw red meat while grinning like Jack Nicholson in “The Shining”.

Family members passing through the kitchen maintain distance and say things like, “Whoa! (hands go up in the air) Sorry to bother you, Dad. On second thought-- I don’t need any money. I’ll pay for college myself. Bye.” and “Honey! Sorry about using all the hot water. I’m headed to my hair appointment---love your shirt.” She never takes her eyes off you as she backs out the door. They know that right now, you’re very fragile.

Cutting up the ingredients brings calm. You use a chef knife and your hands work together as you chop celery, dice garlic and remember that the onions have to be sliced a certain way. You have to pay attention, focus—you want to get the seasonings just right.

You assemble a wonderful assortment of items that will soon blend under heat and send hearty aromas into all parts of the house. You stand quietly before the stove and stir the pot. You realize you have a home, you have food and shelter. You realize you have a lot to be thankful for.

The fact of the matter is we are all in over our heads and we know it. Our tax refunds come courtesy of the Chinese, people who hate us control our gasoline, politicians run our lives from dawn until dusk and our current Chief Executive, a politician, wants to manage private corporations. God help us--and so far He has.

We can’t do anything about the weather, or make greedy men honest or figure out that mess in the Middle East. The Bible tells us to leave all that up to God-- He doesn’t vote or negotiate. He has been known to burn things.

But you can prepare a good stew for those you love-- gather your family around the table and as the winds outside howl, give thanks. That, you can do.