Embalmed Food

 

 

I thank God for refrigerators

And the delight that they are,

They have improved our lives

And they have done so by far.

 

Think of the wastage before:

The produce thrown away,

Before the advent of the fridge

That was another day.

 

Today it is so much different

Because of the fridge

And we must give God thanks

For this convenient privilege.

 

I especially want to highlight

The embalmed food

Simply because as I get older

This is more my groove.

 

At our house it is a practice

That no one meal serves one day;

It serves at least two days

And this is our way.

 

In my case in particular

It may serve three days or more

And this is surely because

I am eating far less than before.

 

At our house food is cooked

Expecting somebody to drop in

And if that someone doesn’t turn up

We cannot throw it in the bin.

 

 

Hence, we embalm that food

As in the fridge we store it

And this is especially after Sundays

That this has been our habit.

 

Some of you may be offended

By the word embalmed

But there is nothing funereal about it

So please stay calm!

 

Embalmed food is the sweetest

And I am unanimous in that

And many others can attest

To this culinary fact.

 

Of course, there are some

That eat fresh food every day,

They are not about the fridge

You will hear them say.

 

Sad to say, they will go in one

If they live long enough,

Please accept my humble apology

If this quip is too rough.

 

I’ve heard some call people lazy

When they don’t cook every day

But I also know for a fact

This is the bajan way.

 

Embalmed food is less stress

And for certain less effort

And it is one of the ways

In which I give the wife support.

 

 

I tell her, don’t worry ‘bout me

I will find something,

With embalmed food in the fridge

I can afford to sing.

 

She can go and rest herself

Or find something else to do,

She doesn’t have to cook everyday

Like a ship’s cook for the crew.

 

She will last much longer

And certainly, she won’t run away,

And all things being equal

You may lengthen her days.

 

So, criticize me if you must

But don’t touch my food:

Especially the food that is embalmed,

Hear me now, this is my groove.

 

Stewart Russell © May 25, 2021