The lilacs keep on giving. I’m trying this simple recipe for lilac cordial. One cup of lilac blossoms, juice of one lemon, half a cup of honey, and a liter of distilled water, shaken daily for a week. I put it together last night. We’ll know more later.

I’m exploring with some friends if there’s a distinction between gratitude, and living gratefully. We met tonight to discuss that, among other things. It may be as simple as the difference between a noun and a verb, but it deserves some unpacking. One thing I was grateful for this morning was being able to call my good neighbors and ask 1) for an asparagus refill, and 2) to borrow their garage and tools so I could fix my car. Though probably any of my neighbors would help any other in a pinch, I’ve had unpleasant encounters with a couple of them recently. So I was doubly grateful that I could call and leave a message with those requests, and it was my lucky day. Mary called me back in three minutes, having just come in from collecting wild asparagus along the fenceline, and Fred was already moving his truck out of the shop.

Why I needed to fix my car is another story, but the under-bumper-guard was ripped off and dragging. Fred examined it first, but I wanted to fix it myself. The Trans Handy-Ma’am always says, “You’re worth the time it takes to learn a new skill.” And now that I can get down on the ground I want to do so at every opportunity. And, as I heard a drag queen say the other night, “Of all the opportunities I’ve had in my life, this one is by far the most recent.” So with Mary handing me bolts and Fred’s new socket set and Wren supervising, we got ‘er done: the car is now safe to drive to Phil’s for a professional opinion and long-term solution.

I returned home with a pound of fresh wild asparagus, blistered it some in olive oil, laid it gently over sliced cheddar in a warmed spinach tortilla, and drizzled it with my new secret sauce: mayo, Grey Poupon, and balsamic vinegar. Then I piled on some chopped romaine, and some heirloom arugula that’s colonized the flagstone patio, rolled it up, and toasted it.

Despite the wind, I enjoyed lunch on the patio with a new Kindle book, and then played ‘Wren catch’ with the crunchy asparagus and romaine ends. It really was my lucky day. Things didn’t go quite as planned, but under the circumstances they couldn’t have gone better. I’ve felt waves of warm fuzzies wash through me all day, for having good neighbors, good communities, and good conversations. As well as a good dog, and a promising science experiment in the windowsill.