I recently heard a story about a man who moved to a region where apples were plentiful and could not stop eating them, downing up to 20 per day.
I think the story teller embellished a bit, however it did remind me of the first time I tasted a fresh-picked apple when I first moved to New England. Two decades later I still have vivid memories of the amazingness of it.
It was super crisp and juicy. It tasted like sunshine and rain coming together, with honey and a hint of tartness. It was similar to, and yet so very different from, the experience of a grocery store apple.
Now as I drive past apple orchards, watching the ripening this year’s crop my mouth waters. I realize how when I eat really fresh, tasty food I slow down and savor every bite. What if I did that with all my food? All my life experiences?
For sure it has me paying closer attention and working to notice deeply into these final warm days of summer. What are you savoring?
Photo courtesy of Univ of MD
It’s summer, so I have to talk about giant green tomato worms.
A decade ago in my first real garden I found a GIANT green tomato worm. It was as big around as my thumb and longer, much longer. As it turned it’s face to me I half expected it to say, “Hello Lisa, what’s cooking?”, like in a cartoon.
I realized that under my fascination I was scared of it, wanting to remove it from my tomatoes so I’d have a few to eat myself, but not wanting to touch it or even go near it with gloves. Then I saw how zany I was being, and laughed out loud.
The worm is not poisonous or threatening in any real way. I realized that my fear of this worm is like most fears in my life–made larger by my mind than the reality of the situation calls for.
My mom is visiting from California for the first time in years, so even though the weather here in New England is hot and muggy I am determined to get out and show her the sights.
Last Saturday we ventured to Gillette Castle in Connecticut, picking up Jeff’s mom along the way. It was interesting and fun to see this funky castle built entirely of local rock, like a stone Lego building. Inside is covered with intricately carved wooden paneling and the doors have 47 different designs on their surfaces.
And it was HOT, and MUGGY. Getting out of the air-conditioned car on to the blacktop driveway under the driving sun felt like walking into a sauna. So we quickly walked toward the shade, bought our tickets and headed inside. Without air-conditioning the massive stone building felt cool, especially with the breeze coming from the Connecticut River below. However many people around us could not stop talking about how hot it was. I found myself getting cranky. Then I realized why–their complaining made me feel more sweaty and uncomfortable.