Playing Fair and Being Kind

The things are looking up at The Castle. The warmer weather and greenery freshly splashed about the Royal Grounds have increased my happiness quotient. I’ve been doing the little jobs about The Castle and attending to the Royal “Things To Do” List. This change makes for more positive change. Sort of a regenerative feedback loop. I will have to pay close attention to prevent an uncontrolled escalation in my mood much like a squirrel cage motor running unattenuated. That would be disasterous.
Today I took on the pleasant task of making a mess of baked beans using a vegan recipe I found online. I’ve varied and added ingredients to pep up the taste and flavor to resemble more what comes from using salt pork or bacon (which I have stopped eating).
My recipe adds a few tablespoons of vegan butter and a similar amount of coarse ground pepper. I also have increased the number of tablespoons of dry mustard but kept the balsamic vinegar level the same. The results are delicious!

As I was sitting outside eating a bowl of baked beans I marvelled how the vinegar and sweet ingredients (molasses and maple syrup) tango through the foundation of dry mustard and coarse ground pepper. It wasn’t a far jump to get the salt, mustard, vinegar, pepper jump rope song skipping through my brain.
Do you remember those days of lining up out in the street with older kids swinging the jump rope in a large circle and all of us jumping in and out with athleticism to rival any professional sportsperson? We were All Stars!
I was back on Juliet Street in Dorchester waiting to enter the circle of the rope. I’d lean forward and bob my head and upper body in time with the rhythm of the circling rope and at the perfect moment launch myself into the skipping space and jump, jump, jump in exact time with the older kids arms swinging the large arc over and over and over. Then they would begin the chant of “Mabel, Mabel, set the table! Don’t forget the SALT…MUSTARD…VINEGAR…PEPPER!” On the word “Pepper” their arms would begin flailing the arc faster and faster with the rope almost a blur while I would try to keep up my jumping to skip above the slapping, slapping, slapping rope as it hit the pavement under my slapping feet. What fun! The kids swinging the rope always could last longer than the jumper. The game stopped when the rope finally caught up with the jumper and tangled itself to a standstill.
Then we’d do it again with a different jumper.

“Mabel, Mabel, set the table…” These beans are some good.
G. M. Goodwin
15 May 2018