gratitude Saturday: a practice in eating the Finger Lakes

Today was the Edible Finger Lakes release party, which we enjoyed without actually knowing anyone at the party besides the people who were serving food.

There was lots of wine, as it was the wine issue being released--it was our first "fancy" Ithaca event and we were happy to support a magazine we really enjoy--especially for its recipes!

For most of the day, we did "nothing." I've been trying to be aware of the value of doing little, of taking time to regenerate. I've been talking a good deal about slowness and trying hard to practice what I'm preaching. Especially since I'm reading Thich Nhat Hanh who says:

If we are not empty, we become a block of matter. 

We cannot breathe, we cannot think.
To be empty means to be alive, to breathe in and to breathe out.
We cannot be alive if we are not empty

It's not easy to practice this kind of awareness and this kind of acceptance for stillness. Luckily, Jesse likes a good and lazy Saturday and wanted to spend the day "emptying". 

In the car, on the way to the market, we heard this song:

It was something about the "feeling you've thought you forgotten" that made me really like this song, really start enjoying the day and our car ride over the water and around all of the prettiness that's the Finger Lakes in the summer.

At the market, we bought rhubarb, looked at ramps, got some purple asparagus and enjoyed walking on the parts of trees that curve into the water. A totally perfect morning.

We watched the trees and how they bent, wound themselves around each other. Not unlike how we are winding around each other, trying to wind round this place and our new life here.

And we were both grateful to watch how things things rely on each other, how there is some kind of symbiotic relationship happening. It reminded me of  an Alan Watt's quotation: "normally, we do not so much look at things as overlook them."  

After market, we happily bought a million plants to plant tomorrow at the annual plant sale -- expect some images of us trying to pretend like we know anything about gardening...I just keep killing plants, but we both have good intentions and high hopes.

But the best part of our day included the taco truck, the good truck. We weren't exactly awake today and the pepita salad, "local" taco, and other yummies really helped us enjoy a day where we didn't really ever wake up or become totally "alert."

That's just the kind of Saturday we needed: a little hazy with some good food and good wine. Some time to notice around surroundings.

I think I can end Saturday being grateful for:

1. plants and what they reveal about being human (more human than we often are)
2. wine and beer
3. tacos (especially tacos with ramps)
4. Saturdays that feel like Saturdays, like weekends, like carelessness

and probably most thankful for a day where it feels like rain without ever actually raining.