Thanks for letting me marvel

The fact is that Mother gets curious fancies that fly into her brain one day, and out of it the next, such as the time when she started to make cabbage wine because she had conceived the notion that it was good for the pancreas.
~ Louis de Bernières, Notwithstanding

I had a tremendously delicious dinner last night. Sweet olives and shreds of delicate artichoke, rich plummy chianti, salty pepperoni on thin-crust pizza, fat polenta fries… every bit of it was so, so wonderful. As I ate, I thought: “Thanks for letting me marvel”, even though it is a most silly thing to think of things to tell your food.

Today held yummy moments too. Thank goodness for yummy moments, moments in which you smile contentedly even when the wind is billowing furiously around your skirt or when your bus is 30 minutes late – moments in which you stretch and are happy, once more, to be alive.

In the afternoon, I stood by a tree and thought about how much the leaves on the branches mimicked the look of coriander.


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