art of preservation

I am learning the art of preservation, saving memories in jars filled with white wine vinegar, or packing them in salt. I hang the good times on a line out in the sun to dry like codfish, let them catch the breeze from the fjord and hide them in the dark when they are plank-stiff [they make for excellent Bacalao if you know what you're doing]. Savor savory minutes smoked over applewood coals. Rot is a poor roomate, I try to freeze my leftovers. Every week I carry out several leaking garbage bags. There is always too much to process, creaking cupboards full to bursting with dried birthdays and pickled funerals. I cover the bitter days with sugar and aquavit to draw out the moisture, they sweeten over time you know, and nothing can go to waste.