Shaving Asparagus

Shaving asparagus.  Hmmmmm.  Sounds like a clue (images of bald-headed spears come to mind) in some mystery the grandkids dreamed up…. 

Honestly, shaving asparagus has to do with a new salad. Rather than chopping it into small pieces while raw (my previous methodology, always a bit disappointing with a too-crunchy mouth feel), I shaved fat stalks into thin strips with a potato peeler.  The asparagus was the purple-skinned variety, sweet and tender despite its size. 

Then I snipped the ribbons into smaller pieces and added chopped red pepper, red onion, and cooked rice.  For the dressing I whisked together lime juice, olive oil, honey, salt and pepper (just a little, I have to watch the sodium intake of the heart that beats next to mine), and fresh cilantro.  The result was surprising, in a good way, with a distinctive twang (thank you, cilantro and lime)!

Her Highness, Queen Phoebe of the Hammock

The local grandkids and their parents came over today to swim around the pier and tube behind the boat.  The youngest (Phoebe, age 5 months), was mesmerized by the movement of the new small hammock as I gently pushed Her Highness back and forth, back and forth.

Rock-a bye-Queenie, in the hammock,

When the wind blows, the hammock will rock.

When Queenie turns, she’ll fall right on through,

And clutching the rope strands, coo at the view.

Living Well

As I grow older, living well has come to mean releasing my own expectations in a given situation rather than obsessing over whatever seems not-quite-right. Living fully and well means trusting the Author of the larger emerging story.   Accepting what is.

Recently I ordered a new rope hammock to replace our old weathered one that was on the verge of becoming unsafe.  When the new hammock arrived, I threw away the box (the trash man was due, so why not?), as well as the old hammock.  Several days later I discovered that I’d ordered the wrong size; the new hammock was much too short!

At first I was frustrated and angry with myself for wasting money and time, especially since the 4^th of July is just around the corner.  But this morning I swallowed my pride and tried hanging the short hammock between two other (close-together) trees.  It will work perfectly as a child-sized hammock for the younger grandkids! This evening I ordered another rope hammock that has more desirable features than either the old one or the one I intended to order the first time, and it was on sale with free shipping!

This is a simplistic illustration, but to me it says life events aren’t accidental; there is always a reason that ultimately fits with the bigger picture.  “When unforeseen things occur, let me not forget that all comes down from Thee.” (Orthodox morning prayer)

In fact, this kind of recovery looks like a kind of redemption to me.  It is generous and obvious, and enables changes that wouldn't happen any other way.  Sometimes there are other cases when I can’t grasp it as tangibly (the illusive dangling carrot), but am aware of being changed for the better in deep-seated ways because of the challenge.  Either way, acceptance is comforting and freeing, a way to live well.

Through His Eyes

This past week I imagined what it would be like to see myself through the eyes of our visiting 10-year-old grandson, a respectful, responsible young man.  Whether or not these perceptions are accurate is debatable, and yet my guess is they're probably close.

I’m not nearly as adventurous, silly, or funny as Grampa, but am loveable none-the-less as the official fish fryer and cinnamon roll baker, and the one who sympathizes with a cut toe or open-eye hit during a pillow fight. I can’t hear conversation much of the time, but smile a lot and fake animated expressions to compensate, which is sometimes funny and other times sad.  I take walks with my cell phone in hand just in case (a security blanket), and sometimes retreat to sit in front of the computer like a stone, absorbed in whatever old ladies think about.  Oh, and I maintain the contents of a big basket on top of the refrigerator – cookies and crackers that are off-limits for adults, but keep me in good standing with my grandkids who like being spoiled.

Yup.  That about covers it.

Enchanting

Yet another Fancy Day has come and gone.

Today began with the project du jour: a shoebox-turned-puppet-stage, and popsicle sticks decorated as puppets (we ended up with over 20). My ingenious, talented 6-year-old granddaughter designed the stage backdrop.  She also created the features and clothing for many of the puppets, including one pregnant Aunt Katie with a round, circular midsection and one non-pregnant Aunt Katie holding a miniscule stick-figure baby. 

Of course we swam in the lake, and the grand-girl discovered that an inverted fishnet worked very well in deep water as a slow motion pogo stick.  Two winsome baby turtles defied her every effort at feeding.  We found various sizes of striped, tri-colored rocks (pink, white, and brown), and decided they were members of an extended family named Neapolitan.

There’s always a cooking component to Fancy Day, and today we created her favorite pizza.  Remembering our other yeasted bread projects, she slipped right into the mindset of “yeasties” having a “party” when they “wake up” in warm water.  She finds the idea of yeast particles “coming alive” delightful, and every time asks the same question: “If they’re living creatures, are they bugs?” Her creation, a many-layered meat-lovers pizza complete with ham, sausage, pepperoni, and bacon, plus mozzarella and parmesan cheeses, went home to her mom to bake for dinner. 

As I review our day together, it is obvious she was enchanted the entire time, as if living out a fairy tale.  “This really IS a fancy Fancy Day!” she remarked when I first explained the goal of making the theater with puppets.  “This is the best Fancy Day EVER,” she added when the curtain and glittery swags were in place on the stage, and the puppets had been dressed and named.

Swimming was a glorious adventure, and cooking an art form.  In the wake of it all, I am grateful to have shared her fascination and enchantment with such simple pleasures.