Ghee Club




There’s something magical about ghee— especially when you make it yourself.

I made some last night.

Hypnotized by the bubbling butter–I glimpsed a moment from my past.




I do not want to be in MacBeth, I said.

It will be good for you.  You’d never do it if I did not make you, she said.

At first– I thought she–Mrs. Gonzales–my 6th grade teacher –was punishing me.  I was obsessed with glitter markers and puffy stickers.  I mistakenly thought Mrs. Gonzales might appreciate the razzle-dazzle on my homework and quizzes.  I now know she was only trying to cultivate confidence–and pull me out of my shell.

My role in MacBeth was tiny.  I was really just a prop on the stage–in the background, in every scene.

Like a piece of furniture or a rock, she said.

I was way too nervous at the audition–barely there– teeter-tottering on the edge of fainting–sweating, turning red, mumbling.  That’s why Mrs. Gonzales came up with the furniture/rock idea.  My twin sister was a servant.  She even had a line to read.

If I could go back in time–I’d help my younger self.

Stop–take a breath–have faith.

I’d give myself a pat on the back or a nudge or a tickle– then I’d remember–  it’s  all  a game– things will work out– they always do.