Archive | September 2023

Want What You Have

Sep2

I checked another peach for ripeness yesterday and woke this morning knowing that harvest time was imminent. I had not noticed any bird or rodent predation yet, but yesterday’s peach was just soft enough to start picking. When I stepped inside the tree’s embrace I saw right away that I was already late. Several peaches had been mauled already. So I started picking.

As I walked around the tree I saw there were many more peaches from some angles than I’d realized from the side I’d been watching. I figured I’d better test one before I got too carried away, so I enjoyed a juicy peach right there: just a little tart on one side but generally soft and sweet, it would have been perfect in another day or two. I’m grateful peaches continue to ripen off the tree, and that’s one reason I wanted to get them in, so I’d have some time to process them in batches of sequential ripening.

Wren was eager for a taste but she spit it out. Wren does not like peaches!

I’ll just pick one basket, I thought. But the more I picked the more I discovered were ripe, and soon I had picked both baskets full. Even with the largest harvest ever, there are more remaining on the tree now than its had total in most years of its life. I’m grateful that I learned how much difference a really wet spring can make in the home stone fruit harvest. Tomorrow I’ll start sorting out what to do with them all. Next spring I’ll start watering heavily as soon as the snow melts.

I’m grateful today for Wilson cleaning the stove and chimney in plenty of time before I’ll want to burn the first fire. There’s a significant ease that comes with having the woodshed almost full and the chimney swept by Labor Day. I’m grateful for the peace of mind derived from winter preparation well underway.

I’m grateful for a simple, delicious cheese sandwich on the new flat bread which still has a great texture and taste: mayo, mustard, shredded lettuce, B&B pickle, red onion, extra sharp cheddar, and leftover tenderloin from Thursday’s dinner out. I’ve been doing real well as a vegetarian this past year, but when someone serves me a perfect steak from a local, grass-fed steer, I’m not gonna turn it down. So I’ve eaten meat twice this month, but none for the previous twelve or more, with no plans for the future except to do the best I can in any situation.

I was thrilled to discover a tiny butternut squash finally growing on one of two vines I planted from accidental sprouts in a pot where I tossed seeds from a local, organic squash I bought last winter. I thought the deer or someone would eat the seeds. Imagine my surprise when melted snow revealed them and they all sprouted!

Brief mid-afternoon thunder sent Wren upstairs to bed, and I joined her there for a nap to comfort her. I woke to this vision, and arose to spend some time in the yarden, feed hummingbirds, chat with Auntie’s daughter, and enjoy fromage forte with a glass of red wine and some TV time. I’m grateful that everything changes, all the time; that sad or self-deprecating moods leave as readily as they arise, that awareness and gratitude nourish contentment, and give such richness to the phrase “Want what you have.” Grasping for more rarely leads to genuine fulfillment.

Introspection

Sep1

In the Mindfulness Foundations Course, we include an Evening Review in the daily practice. Sometimes I feel like I’m doing a Constant Review, looking at how I’ve behaved, choices I’ve made, habits and patterns that keep repeating despite my best intentions. I’m grateful for Introspection, even when it’s painful. I’m grateful for complex relationships, even when they’re uncomfortable: we can learn from every person, every situation, every relationship and every moment in our days. It can be exhausting. But the we take a break, take a walk, watch a Drag Race, curl up in a little ball, eat a heel of bread with cream cheese and jam, whatever self-soothing works in the moment. And then we return with resilience, and take on the next moment, the next day, the next challenging interaction or condition. I’m grateful for grace, forgiveness, and love from others when I find myself struggling in a mental morass of my own making.

I’m grateful for stretching beyond habits. Today I baked a different kind of sourdough. While it didn’t rise as well as I’d hoped, it still sliced well and tasted delicious. I used a locally milled ‘Rouge de Bordeaux’ flour that I’m grateful was given to me to try, mixed 50/50 with King Arthur organic all-purpose flour. I think the dough was too dry, and maybe I over proofed it. It seemed to collapse in on itself in the first half of baking when it should have steamed and risen. It made a tasty toast. Don’t know yet how it will hold a cheese sandwich, but my intention for tomorrow is to find out! I’m grateful in the midst of mental suffering for the simple sensory pleasures that make our larger failures bearable.