I know the buzz words -- strive to "live in the moment." Who hasn't heard that sage advice! But I'm no master at intentionally putting it into practice. Like with most everything, I don't train for stuff that doesn't really bother me. (This is unfortunate, I know. We'll talk about it another time.) I move along without reminding myself that I need to "pay attention to my surroundings." Or that I need to "focus on the small stuff and feel gratitude." Perhaps it's because farmette days are already full of that: I spend hours paying attention to my surroundings and I write endless posts about small stuff. And ask me when was the last time I did not feel gratitude! I could improve: anxiety and stress are there, waiting all the time to invade my space, but for the most part, I haven't felt their threat strongly enough to hurry up and get good at practicing mindfulness and living in the moment. The day will likely come when I will need that skill set, but thus far I've coasted on a lot of luck and a love of hobbies (gardening comes to mind) that force me to stare beauty right in the face for hours on end. Good enough!
Not knowing much about mindfulness, I was, therefore, shocked today when, in the middle of the parking lot of Bill's Food Center in Oregon Wisconsin, standing next to Ed's motorcycle, I had a feeling of such profound happiness that I wondered if I still had the leftovers of whatever they pumped into my veins at the clinic yesterday.
Why? And why there, of all places? Too, why were we even at Bill's Food Center in Oregon Wisconsin? All good questions. Let me try to deconstruct the moment:
I had spent an unreasonably long time this morning cleaning the lily stems. Two and a half hours! At the end of July! That's just too long! I thought we were on the downhill path, but clearly the lilies proved me wrong. Was it a record? I don't know. I did not count the snipped heads because I'm getting to that place in the game where knowing how much I still have to do is discouraging. Best to just proceed and hum various songs in my head. Like "Nymphs and Shepherds" (Purcell) while working these girls:
Or "One lovely summer evening" (it's a Finnish song I learned back at the UN School -- "Ol' Kaunis Kesäilta") while working in this field:
What? You cant find the song or the lyrics? Ask a Finnish friend to sing it for you. Here's an English translation of the lyrics:
One lovely summer evening while strolling down the hill (repeat)
I met a lovely maiden the memory linger still (repeat)
The kantele she played and her song was sweet and clear (repeat)
That song I'll always cherish and in my heart hold dear (repeat).
Okay, I got sidetracked here. It happens when songs and poems waft through your head on a garden walk.
I took photos of course, because, well, the blooming season is so short, and the beauty is so profound.
(Not to be forgotten: the nasturtium that always remind me of Monet's Garden in a pot that to me is straight from Garden Majorelle in Marrakech)
(oh, those colors!)
(Big Bed)
Breakfast was at 11. Pretty late, even for us.
I already feel the depth of serenity during a breakfast on the porch, so you might say I'm primed for contentment every time I dig into a bowl of fruits and oatmeal or granola across the table from Ed, but then, I seem to have taken it a step further today. I suggested we head out to Stoneman's Farm to start buying our summer corn. We drove by yesterday and the sign said they'll be selling it on Friday. Today is Friday.
We get on the motorbike and ride the four minutes to Stoneman's.
The family is there, the kids are running around in their ever cute yellow t-shirts sporting the family logo (Stoneman's Famous Sweet Corn), but there is no corn.
We sold out already today. This from one of the family members shooting' the breeze in the driveway.
The sign in your driveway now says "soon." When is soon?
We're hoping to start on the bi-color next week. Once that gets going, we should be selling pretty regularly.
Oh, the bi-color! It's worth waiting for, even if their season is off to a late start (like my flowers!). The Stoneman family (which really is the Oppermann family, as the Stonemans have passed on and the farm is now run by a grandson and his sibs, with the help of their spouses and parents and in-laws) get up every morning at 6 and start picking. By 8 they are done for the day and most go off to their regular jobs while a couple remain to sell the corn. It really is a family affair!
And the corn? Oh, the corn! It's heaven. They plant Honey 'n Pearl -- a variety that's harder to grow and has a lower yield than what you'll find elsewhere, but the taste is simply sublime.
Still, we wont be eating it today. I check my phone to see if there's a farmer's market nearby. Madison has so many of these markets in the summertime, but I guess Friday is not a popular day for it because I come up empty. This is when Ed says -- call Bill's Food Center in Oregon (some ten minutes up the road from the farmette). They sometimes have local stuff in their produce. Maybe they'll have someone's corn.
They do. Eugster's corn. I mean, it's not going to be Stoneman's, but it will be local and very fresh. With corn, eating it within a day or two of picking changes the experience from simply "good" to "exquisite."
So we motor our way to Oregon and it is such a pretty country road!
Since I don't have my mask with me (and Ed always has one in his pants pocket), I leave him to do the purchasing as I wait by the bike. And feel happy.
We ride back and the feeling lingers. The air is just perfect. Ed routinely reaches over with his hand and gives my leg a gentle rub (I think this is a biker's thing, but he has always done it and it always feels loving and kind) and I bury my face in the back of his shirt and I think -- we have corn, the sun is out, the flowers are blooming and I'm with this sweet guy who is so different yet, despite everything, he and I both find contentment and yes, happiness in our small life in this tiny corner of our beautiful planet. Small stuff, deeply felt. Is that what living in the moment is all about? It must be.
All this and a visit from the UPS man too. What a day!
In gratitude, I spend the afternoon clearing out stuff from the farmhouse -- a favor to myself, but especially to Ed.
With so much love...
