8:30 on a Saturday morning felt like an odd time to be cooking greens when she thought about it, but after a week away from the kitchen she just needed to cook. The heat from the gas stove was warm against her forearm as she dropped wet clumps of chard, kale and turnip greens into the 8-quart flame red Le Creuset her husband had given her for Christmas. It was almost too large. She remember thinking, “you could bathe a child in this pot,” when she opened the gift. The greens sizzled and hissed against the hot oil already shimmering. Her daughter covered her ears and threw a glare over her shoulder. Clearly, it was too loud. Standing at the stove, using a pair of tongs to repeatedly turn the greens, her mind cleared, thoughts passed like clouds. A needed meditative break. Once the greens had wilted, she added a larger-than-she-should-have pinch of salt, a few cloves of garlic recently minded, and a healthy glug of olive oil contributing several more hundred calories to greens, who were in need of them anyhow. Later in the week she’d toss the greens with cooked spaghetti and yet more olive oil and garlic, she’d serve them alongside roasted chicken, and on top of rice or a crusty piece of bread. Her daughter left the kitchen, hands still over her ears.