Rudolf’s Diner

Directions for Making Soup

©Mariana Xavier, 2008

First, refuse all recipes.
Next, fetch a deep pot from the clutter of mismatched lids in the cupboard below.

Finally, take this empty pot out back to the dark lush grass. Find the power spot and lay pot upside down. Walk around it three times, singing Bob Marley’s “Stir It Up”.

Finally finally, lay down next to the pot, expecting nothing. Fall asleep to clothespins falling off the line.

When the sun has baked you fragrant and full, stand up and pray namaste over the pot until it rumbles and shakes. Continue with your prayers. The pot, when the timing is perfect, rolls over like a playful puppy and sits upright. Inside is a thick full orange soup made from singing bells and slow-rising suns.

You bend down. The fragrance knocks you backward.

©Judith Clarke, 2008

Judith Clarke is a Boston Irish Catholic Agnostic. She loves reading, dogs, bodies of water, French, naps, and long luscious conversations. She wishes she had a set of beliefs to tide her over in these sad times but she only has assumptions, deductions, observations, and so on. She has never made a pot of soup in her life.

2 Comments »

  1. Not true, Judith! You just made the most wonderful pot of soup ever. I can just see it and smell it, and only the Irish could make it that way. I hope you’ve also read Maia’s lovely story called Irish Soup in this same issue. Thanks so much for yours.

    Comment by Vivienne Rowe — July 6, 2008 @ 10:26 pm

  2. I partook deeply and tasted an ancient resonance with cauldrons and Celts in this ceremonial and playful “orange soup” of yours. Mmmm. Maia

    Comment by Maia — July 16, 2008 @ 9:00 pm

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