Friday's Foibles  "Short on Time"


This will likely be my shortest blog to date.  Why? Because I am, as I often am, short on time. Why?  Because I chose wrong, again.  But it is one mistake I happily make, again and again.  I've yet to learn and hope I never do!


I prefer to think that I chose right, and suffer the consequences of being short on time, because I chose to be "long on experience."  Knowing that my day would be a tight one, my morning ought to have run like a Swiss timepiece.  One problem though....a Swiss timepiece does not run well in the hands of a woman with an Irish heart!  Try as I might, I am unable to be "run" by the clock, unable to choose the rewards of efficiency and timeliness over the much richer reward of experience.  And experience, in its myriad of forms, simply refuses to have an eye on the clock!


So, now I type, racing against the clock, chasing my tail, playing catch-up...all games at which I am very well trained.  I am a veteran athlete at the Beat The Clock marathon of Life.  It is one of my worst foibles.  Now, because of the two lovely visits and conversations I enjoyed this morning, I am "short on time"...yet again.  But, I willingly chase, race, catch-up...I happily accept the trade-off and will make the same mistake tomorrow...if experience presents itself and tempts me with the allure of another great conversation, another connection with someone, another experience that is far worthier of my time than merely being "on time."


Timeliness is overrated.  Experience is invaluable and makes no appointments.  Apologies for any typos or poor syntax...I'm short on time today!


Thanks for reading.  Let it steep!

Thursday's Thoughts   "My Friend the Butcher"


Well, you have to admit...that title caught your attention, didn't it?  But it states a fact, speaks the truth...my butcher is my friend.  And so is my fresh produce manager, my fishmonger, my dry cleaner, my hairdresser, even my dentist, unlikely as that one sounds.  As I look back at that sentence and consider revising it, one thing strikes me and I realize that, in its own little way, it unintentionally and unobtrusively conveys my meaning...the word "my."  Those two little letters express that there is a relationship, a belonging to, a connection with each of these people.  


When I finished my errands earlier today, first the cleaner's and then the supermarket, and had chatted with "my" butcher, and "my" dry cleaner's wife, it got me thinking along these lines...how people who were once complete strangers become a real part of your life, real friends over the years.  I thought how funny and how lovely a thing it is, even more so because of the seeming randomness of it...like a flower growing where it shouldn't be.  Each of these people could just as easily be "someone else's" butcher, dry cleaner, hairdresser, dentist and our lives would never have intersected.  But they have.  They are now someone whose name I know, whose expressions I know, whose laugh I know, whose weekends and Christmases and birthdays, and ups and downs I hear about...and they mine!  They are someone who I've grown accustomed to seeing, who I look forward to seeing, who I would miss if I didn't see...the are a part of my life, my universe.  I am a part of theirs...sheerly by chance of location, timing, destiny, grace...we can call it any of these things, or all of them!


Whatever the cause of the connection, there now is one.  I know that if something bad happened to them, I would feel badly.  And I think they would feel the same about me...there is a nice and pure reciprocity in our relationship that is not born of any obligation whatsoever.  What a nice thing when you think about it!


Years ago when my daughter was little, and as we walked to our car after a particularly long trek through our supermarket, peppered with many chats along the way at the counters and in the aisles, she posed this question to me.  "Mom, why do you talk to everybody so much?"   I had never even thought about it before.  All I could answer was what came to me quite naturally..."Because they are a human being and I am a human being, they are doing their job and I am doing mine, and if we can be nice to each other and maybe give each other a smile or a laugh, why wouldn't we? It doesn't take any extra energy to be nice as it does to be bland or nasty, so why not?"  She listened and seemed satisfied...smart girl!  It does make sense after all.  


Thanks for reading.  Let it steep!

Wednesday's Woes  "The Return of the Green Phantom"


This is so NOT a woe, just a complaint.  It's back!  Oh sure, you don't see it at first glance, but it's there...even as I sit typing this, speck by speck by speck is settling on what was only yesterday a pristine windshield.  By Friday, it'll be as if those fabulous forty seconds in the car wash never even happened...an oasis that vanishes before my red and itchy, pollen polluted eyes!  


It's a losing battle...but a great reminder.  Nothing is static in this world...nothing.  Nothing stays the same...not good things or bad things, not joys or strifes.  Cars get cleaned and cars get dirty again.   Weeds get pulled and weeds grow back again.   Lawns get mowed and grass grows back again.  We have to learn to live with this constant dynamic of Life.    One lesson lies in those forty seconds in the car wash.  To keep up with our life flying past us like pollen on a fast mission, we should look for and drink from every oasis we may spot hovering on the horizon.  Know that it is fleeting relief, but no less restorative for its brevity.  Those moments are necessary gulps of refreshment that we need to continue the journey.  And, luckily, those moments are all around us and usually are free for the taking.  We only have to train ourselves to take them as often as we can.  It may sound like a silly trifle, but it is the only way I know to approach this fast world we live in.  Your oasis will not look like my oasis, nor does it have to...the purpose is the same.   Be on the lookout for those little lakes of restorative "something" that make you feel alive, renewed, peaceful, happy...even for the most fleeting moment or two...and take them!   They add up "at the end of the day."


It's maddening that my car is getting covered with pollen again.  But, I remind myself how much I enjoyed the carwash and how blessed I am just to be alive in this gorgeous, pollen-polluted world.   When I sneeze and itch my way through my walk later, I'll try to admire the beautiful pines and ignore their irksome tiny offspring!  


Thanks for reading.  Let it steep!

Tuesday's Trifles  "Pollen Pleasures"


I realize that is a crazy title, as springtime pollen creates a whole host of annoyances for many of us.  But, there is one pleasure to come of  all those little pesky specks!  As I said in previous Tuesday posts, trifles are little things that can be viewed as great things, if we choose to do so.  Yesterday, this was the way I chose to view those very little, almost invisible, things floating through the air, torturing our sinuses, eyes and throats, and coating our cars, window screens and well, everything!  


This past weekend was The Weekend..."Pollen-Palooza" when certain trees celebrate life by exploding their life force into the air, gracing the outdoors with a lovely lime powder like microbial confetti.  With the right breeze, you can see "Pollen-Palooza" in action, as a visible cloud of pollen moves through the air like a graceful, green phantom.   Yesterday, I decided my silver, but lime-green tinted, car deserved a "shower" after the long weekend of the pine trees' hard partying!   


I decided to make one very annoying, very small thing into a very enjoyable, very great thing...and all for only $12.00!  Off to the car wash we went and it was worth every penny!  Going through the car wash is not a great extravagance, although I do not avail myself or my car of it very often.  Yet, the experience feels like such a luxury to me.  Perhaps it just brings back nice childhood memories...the simple, naive thrill of traveling through that dark tube with water and soap being zapped at you from every direction...every kid's dream!  As an adult now, I think it is about more than that.  There is something about the "surrender" of those swift, sudsy seconds (I don't think it takes even a full minute!) in the car wash that is so restorative, like a soapy oasis in the midst of a busy day.  From the moment I put the car into neutral and feel the tug of the track underneath the tires, it is as if I am downshifting too, into a gear in which there is not much else I can do.  By the time the bumper has been foamed and scrubbed, and the first rinse of water is streaming down my windshield, I have abandoned scribbling the shopping list to just sink into my seat, get pulled along, and enjoy the bath!  The squirts of foam (red and blue for Memorial Day) make patriotic stripes on the windows and then...the absolute best part...the Strip Monster attacks!  I hated this part as a kid, but now it's just the best thing when those long, wavy strips of foam smother the car and wriggle all around like wet worms.  Those seconds in the dark while the car is slathered and sloughed must remind me of those glorious seconds when you stepped out of the tub, were wrapped in a waiting towel and were rubbed dry head to toe by loving, albeit rushing, hands.   Then, the darkness breaks and as the car gets its final rinse and "wheel brite" treatment, I see light at the end of the tunnel.  Next comes the roar of the giant blow dryers and I savor the last few seconds of my relaxing oasis.  As if to ramp me back up for my re-entry to the world, the dryers roar and blast at my silver cocoon.  Before I know it, it's over...I feel the track spit me out onto the pavement and I shift back into Drive.  Time for me, and my brilliantly gleaming car, to get in gear and return to action...restored, refreshed, and pollen-free!


If you ask me, it's the best (and cleanest!) $12.00 thrill the civilized world has to offer.  Well, except for having your hair washed at the beauty salon, a luxury which is actually cheaper...but that is another story for another Tuesday...come to think of it, I think I have an appointment next week!  So glad I have another great little thing to look forward to all week!


Thanks for reading.  Let it steep!

Friday's Foibles  "In Defense of the Bleeding Heart"


Happy Friday!  I'm sure your week had its problems, mishaps, glitches...it's weekly fare of foibles.  We ought not expect otherwise.  But take heart!  Even fauna and flora have their garden variety of foibles...so too must we!  As always, it's all in how you look at it. 


Last weekend when I was weeding and my husband was spreading mulch, he remarked, "I wish you hadn't planted so many of these Bleeding Heart plants...they don't last long enough and then they turn yellow and look horrible half the summer!"  I replied, "I planted them because I love them,  they do well in shade, they were inexpensive, they mature fast, and they are beautiful...what more do you want from a plant?"  I felt as though he'd insulted a relative and I was compelled to defend my beloved Bleeding Hearts!


Depending on where you live, you may not know what a Bleeding Heart plant looks like...and you should...they are magnificient! Google an image of one if you have to.  My biggest complaint with my dear husband's complaint was that he wasn't looking at things fairly...or rather, fully.  Much of the magnificence of the Bleeding Heart happens long before those gorgeous little hearts are even the twinkle in an eye.  When the ground softens in March here, I begin my watch for them.  Years ago, I planted a row of eight bleeding heart plants along the side of my garage "where the sun don't shine" and, boy,  have they "done well!"  If I am lucky, I will catch The Day and I will see the winter-tight ground disturbed, maybe even a little clump of soil shoved aside by their coming!  A day or two later (depending on the weather of course), their green heads, still bowed down from the effort, will appear above the earth.  You could walk right by it...nothing more than a clutch of reddish green stalks standing two, maybe three inches high, curled up tight at their tips just like an old person who can no longer stand tall...except that this aging process happens in reverse.  In the weeks to follow, it is a daily lesson in science and Beauty.   Every year I tell myself that some year when I can, I am going to plant my chair beside them some warm spring day and just watch, because I swear you must be able to literally watch them grow!  Each day as they grow taller, they uncurl, unfurl their treasure...fringy fists of foliage open to reveal rich, green palms of three fingers each.  Then, the tiny hearts make their appearance! In an amazing display of order, they hang from the stem, in a progression of development and color, each one just barely bigger and brighter than its neighbor!   You can see that the tiniest white pod at the close end carries within it the tinge of the pink heart-shaped cap that will grow and deepen,  before lifting up and away from the pod, resembling a heart with pigtails and the innocent white face beneath.  This beautiful "before your eyes" show lasts for a few weeks.  A progression of perfect pink hearts dangle profusely from slender branches like a charm bracelet from a wrist.  Perfection! 


Well, almost perfection, because, as my husband rightly observes, it doesn't last.  But what more can he want, I think to myself later on, as I pull weeds from a smaller Bleeding Heart planted two years ago, which offered me fewer but no less perfect hearts.  I thought of all this plant had done in the last weeks, all on its own and in the shade no less...an annual miracle if you ask me!  It had indeed done well.  Shouldn't that be enough?  When I produce such near and beautiful perfection and last a long time, then I'll consider a different favorite plant!  But I don't see that happening any springtime soon!


Thanks for reading.  Let it steep!

Thursday's Thoughts  "Whether the Weather Be..."


I happened to catch the last few minutes of an interview with the great cellist Yo Yo Ma on the radio this morning.  He was talking about how much the weather and air conditions affect his instrument, being made of wood and thus, highly sensitive to such things.  He explained to the interviewer how, in winter, great care must be taken to protect his cello or it could result in the "death of the instrument" as he called it.  During winter, his cello is stored in a special "hold" which protects it from the very dry winter air, because if the cello were exposed to this for great periods of time its wood would become very brittle and eventually split!  The specially crafted hold prevents this, but sometimes an additional and more simple method is employed, just to be on the safe side of musical morbidity rates.  A little rubber tube, with holes in it, is placed into the hold along with the cello.  Inside the tube is a sponge that is damp and that will release at least some level of moisture into the closed hold, to safeguard the life of the wood!  So simple, yet so critical, if  Yo Yo is to be believed...and I think he knows what he's talking about!  


Moisture has been in abundance this spring.  The sun has been very shy here lately, even allowing for the expected level of springtime showers and cloudy days.  For three weeks in a row, we have not seen much of the sun between Monday and Friday, almost as if it has packed up its rays into a briefcase and gone off to work in some other part of the world each work week...lucky Brazil!  By the third week it starts to get to you...even a person like myself who doesn't mind "the soft weather" as the Irish call it.  But after a long stretch, you realize it has begun to affect you...tired of the gloom and damp, you long for the dry, sparkling days that surely must be coming!  Listening to Yo Yo Ma  got me to thinking about how natural, biological even,  this reaction is.  If his beloved cello, created of a fine wood and string skeleton, but which doesn't possess a brain or central nervous system, can be so affected by weather, then we human instruments all the more so!  


Until some savant at M.I.T. devises the purse-sized "sunshine model" of the cello moisture tube, we must grin and bear the weather...whether the weather be too much rain or too much sun...it's a problem either way, as we know.  In the meantime, it's up to us to take proper care of our instrument and learn what strings to pluck and notes to play to make us grin and make our days musical, whatever the weather.  (I find lots of tea and a great book really helps!)


Thanks for reading.  Let it steep!

Wednesday's Woes   "Barley and Glass Salad"


It was so delicious!  I know barley doesn't exactly conjure up thoughts of culinary excellence or excitement...to me, if falls into that vague class of food stuffs that we imagine being cooked into some beige, glue-like gruel and served from a rusty cauldron to the orphans in a Dicken's novel, right?  Well, on Monday afternoon I transformed this pauper's porridge into a side dish that even Giada DiLaurentis would proudly serve!  With a little effort (and fresh herbs!), even the humblest of things can be turned into something simply lovely.  A great and basic revelation to any cook!


Cooking barley requires patience...in fact, barley could give tea a run for its money in the steeping category!  Like tea, it requires only the infusion of water, but it needs about 40 minutes of your watchful eye and spoon.  But I was determined to make this delicious and healthy sounding recipe...it would be worth it.  And I was right.  An hour or so later, I had a very large bowl of beautifully fluffy barley, quinoa grains, scallions, Bermuda onion, crumbled goat cheese, olive oil, lemons, pepper, and best of all....the biggest and best leaves of mint and parsley that I had snipped from my herb pots...the crowning touch!  It was really good...try it!  But if you do, be sure to leave one ingredient out!


After dinner, I was unloading the dishwasher and was holding three glasses on their way to their shelf.  One slipped from my hand and landed on the counter, literally exploding exacting in front of the bowl of my blissful barley salad!  I have never seen a glass break like this...there were some large pieces, but mostly it looked as if someone had been  cutting diamonds on my formica!  One and two karat crystals and a fine diamond dust were everywhere!  Then the realization...my salad!  Ruined! All my work, time, and those perfect mint leaves...wasted, all wasted!  And my plan to have it all set for lunch and dinner for the next couple days...smashed to smithereens!  I was so mad, mad at myself for rushing (per usual) and trying to carry too much.  I heard that old adage ringing in my head, "Haste Makes Waste!"  I felt a sudden and irrational hatred for Ben Franklin, or whoever it was who said that.  Then another voice chimed in...mine!  Here's what it said: "Whoa!  This is most definitely NOT a woe!  Stop it!"  I'd like to say that it ended right there...but honestly, there were a couple minutes of complaining and whining and real regret before I let it go.  We are such stubborn creatures! (For a minute, I even considered keeping it, giving it a good look over and taking my chances!)  I had to silently talk myself into accepting that my salad was not to be saved.  I looked at the strewn glass and that is what talked me out of it...it made me think of how quickly anything can be shattered.  I thought of how many people that day, as I happily stirred my barley, had the peace and "the  plan" of their lives shattered in one way or another...the loss of a loved one, the loss of a job, the dreaded bad news from a doctor...all of which can happen in the second that it takes to drop a glass.  And it isn't just Wednesday that's full of woe...this happens to people everyday,  everywhere.  We know it does, we just don't think about it enough.


So, yes...WHOA!  Stop bemoaning the loss of your salad, your plan, I scolded myself.  It was crystal clear....how could I complain?  I couldn't.  And while it doesn't make for a very humorous story now, it did RE-teach me a lesson that we must constantly try to master!  To me, it's an essential ingredient to the great Recipe of Life.


Thanks for reading.  Let it steep!