March 18, 2024 (Monday – over halfway through this month! Crazy!)
I was looking through my pantry last weekend while wondering what to make for dinner when my eyes spied a can of cannellini beans. That one little look brought this little ditty tumbling out of me! So weird how this brain works.
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Hannibal
There once was a man named Hannibal – Smith, not Lecter – as one might suppose. He was mild and meek, somewhat of a geek, and wore shoes with holes in the toes.
He was older and gentle, this man they all feared – Nary an acquaintance or family had he. No friends or foes, just his home and his woes … word had him a cannibal, you see.
We were neighbors, not friends. But, as it turned out in the end, he was friendlier than friendly could be. One day he invited, and was so delighted, when I accepted his invitation to tea.
I thought a request for tea was better than dinner … As such might mean I’d be the main course. But, I agreed, by decree as he was smaller than me, and I figured I could take him by force.
I, for one, simply thought tea would be lovely – outside in the breeze by the sea. My friends were aghast saying I’d be dinner at last, but their advice went unheeded, by me. Perhaps he was lonely and I was his only … a neighbor and friend I could be.
I thought to myself, “Be social. Be friendly. He’s harmless – a neighbor – you’ll see. ” My heart raced as I paced – uneasy and clammy – was the mood and description of me. As I went, I pondered … really, how bad could this be?
How bad could it be – a cannibal tea?
He proffered a dish of fava as I tried to chase the chills from my spine. I smiled and thanked him but said I would have to most surely decline – But he looked so put out, I said I thought I just might … And I then gobbled them up … smacking my lips with delight.
And as it was, the afternoon passed, and we had a nice and most agreeable tea!
At first, I kept watch – and from him, a far distance. I was so nervous, fearful, and wary. But soon came to know him and laughed at myself as he was anything but wicked or scary.
As he opened his cupboards and showed me his wares, he revealed his folly of staples. He had oodles of noodles, soup, beets, and yams … Tins of all types … stockpiles of hams.
He said he wasn’t much of a cook, he liked more to just open and heat – But assured me he’d put – all tasty and good – something, for us, on the table to eat. I realized then that that we had him all wrong and he was actually so nice and so sweet.
And so it went, with Hannibal’s tea on that day. I’m so glad I went and sat at his table And figured out he’s not a man-eater, just a nice man who’s merely “can-able”.