|These are not my jars of kimchee. I borrowed them because mine are nearly empty.|
But not always. In fact, usually, I cannot make myself eat it. Even out of curiosity.
But I am finishing my second jar within a week's span and about to open the third.
I love it because it is red. And is not bland. Unlike most other things that I can bear to eat this past week (broth, potato soup, tisane, applesauce, yogurt), kimchee bites back. And I get to eat it with a fork. Unlike most other things (broth, potato soup, tisane, applesauce, yogurt). Also it cauterizes as it goes down. Which has to be an advantage. At least it puts my throat to sleep long enough for me to get some sleep.
I like to think it's doing me some good.
I love it, the kimchee and also how the body tells you what it needs when you really need it. I'm sure I would love it if my body and I were always on such good speaking terms. But usually, when the body is not lurching from breath to breath, my body and I act more like busy spouses -- sleeping in the same room, sharing the same tube of toothpaste, but not engaging much in newsy chat. Something about the moment of crisis that helps communication skills. So I love it that my body can assess its needs for Vitamins C and on past zebra and tell me in no uncertain terms, Kimchee! Now! I love that my body talks to me.
But I wouldn't mind a little less love, a little less kimchee and a chance to live my old lifestyle of late nights and lungs I never think about and meals based on something more toothsome than the body's need, the color red and the ability to go down hot and easy.