A STOEP

"The space between home and the world, between the inside and outside. Where we watch the days change into night, where we listen to the flies in summer and feel the seasons pass. A place where we belong."
You dont have to sit on a stoep to feel this. If your eyes are open then you belong wherever you go, even if you ride out through the farm gate all the way to Coleskop. Dont complicate a thing. Give yourself to this world moment by moment by moment. Then you are never seperate from your true home."

I read Stoep Zen this weekend. What a beautiful book. Written by Anthony Osler, a Buddhist monk, farmer + father he contemplates life as it passes by the stoep of his Karoo farm. Its real, its funny and its a must read. While it did have a profound affect on me it also made me want to dip rusks into a mug or in my case a bowl of steaming hot tea/coffee so here is a recipe for buttermilk rusks which I made this morning and a few more exerpts from the book to read while you boil the kettle ...

" Johan brings out two cups of hot Kloof coffee, We talk about things we hear on the radio this morning, about war in Iraq, hunger in Zimbabwe, turmoil in Kashmir. Then we give up and sit on the bench feeling the wooden slats at our back. The steam from the coffee mists my glassess and the world disappears."

"A visitor comes to the farm and asks alot of questions about Buddhism so I take him for a walk up the stony road to the gate. "And what does Zen say about love?" he asks. "Watch your step," I tell him. But he doesnt hear. Thats fine too. We reach the gate and head back home."