Our conversations have not been many and most have been short since I’ve been sick.

Last night, I walked with him in the evening light among his many gardens after sharing a meal. We were walking through a vineyard, and he put his hand on one of the gnarled trunks of the grapes. I mentioned that wine seemed an unusual fondness for him; he smiled one-sidedly and said that everyone gets bored of the same things all of the time for thousands of years.

Unlike here, there was a large full moon rising, in a harvest yellow, on the blue-purple horizon.

We’ve spoken about offerings a few times, and about my financial situation, and that I ran out of food stamps and was in an unpleasant bind. He decided that he liked the ginger lemon tea (stash) I bought for our bronchitis, with honey, and said that would be suitable, and also the green tea with lemon that I already had. The green tea without honey, for the sake of my preferences. And we would share all of the tea.

Most of his typical food offerings I cannot eat, handle, or prepare due to sensitivities, allergies, diseases, and other issues, and I am generally a vegetarian with vegan tendencies. Most of the time that I eat meat, it is because someone else has prepared it. There is a chicken, sweet potato, and apple stew downstairs that I would be a complete fool not to eat.

It isn’t dogmatic, but I lean that way religiously, or spiritually. He said that never troubled him.

He asked that I share some of my food, whatever it is, unless I were eating one of my truly dull staples, which aren’t very interesting. They are merely the cheapest way I can accomplish my most basic dietary needs.

I’m meant to try to rest. I have an unfortunately large amount of reading that I need to get through on Monday and Tuesday, and I started back into meditating this evening after having to take a break due to how sick I was.


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