What's cookin'?

I really need to expand on this, but I like this post (and this one) on how to cook your life. Think of rice, and you'll start to get the picture.

In the meantime, chew on this poem, from Donald C. Babcock...

The Little Duck


Now we are ready to look at something pretty special.

It is a duck riding the ocean a hundred feet beyond the surf,
and he cuddles in the swells.
There is a big heaving in the Atlantic.
And he is part of it.
He can rest while the Atlantic heaves, because he rests in the Atlantic.
Probably he doesn't know how large the ocean is.
And neither do you.
But he realises it.
And what does he do, I ask you.
He sits down in it.
He reposes in the immediate as if it were infinity – which it is.
That is religion, and the duck has it.
I like the little duck.
He doesn't know much.
But he has religion.