Pleasure and Treats

20180829_104856 When I was a young wife in the fifties, my father helped us buy a house in the small town where I had grown up. Just outside my kitchen door was a garbage pail sunk into the ground. I would step on the lid, dump in my orange peels, potato peelings, stale food, etc. and once a week a man would come by with a big truck, pull out the bucket, empty it into his truck, and along with all the other garbage he had collected, take it to feed his pigs.

His piggery was deep in a wooded area and the smell bothered no one because it was quite isolated. I expect that today his pig farm would have been deemed unsanitary and done away with. Then it fitted in with a more appropriate attitude of the time of waste not want not. It made a good thrifty use for what otherwise would go to waste. In those days there was a more sensible attitude toward what we have and what we need, or so it seems to me. The Covid 19 crisis seems to have exacerbated a prevailing need to have more and more.

Not long ago people were treating toilet paper as if it were about to vanish from the earth. One person even spotted a woman loading her SUV with an entire tray of rolls from a Walmart. Other items vanished from shelves as people reacted out of fear of lack. How much I need is one amount. That need springs from a logical, rational approach to having. How much I want may stem from a fear of loss, a desire to own more than I already have, plain greed, or envy driven by a competitive nature.

Need and want are such different conditions. Operating from an awareness of need is different than operating from a feeling of want. I once read a story told by someone waiting in an airport who overheard a mother and daughter saying goodbye to one another. As they embraced, she overheard one say to the other, “I wish you enough.” The other replied with the same words. At first it seemed a curious thing to say for a farewell. As I reflected, I realized that to have enough is actually an absolutely perfect condition in which to be.

When I have enough, I have the space to put it. When I have more than enough, whether food needing refrigeration or clothing to find room for in our shared closet, I have to become creative about fitting whatever it is in. I may end up shoving things to the back of the refrigerator and losing sight of them, or into the back of the closet and doing the same. Then what I have lost sight of may become either moldy or essentially useless. It is said that much food goes to waste in this country, and no doubt leftovers may be a large part of that food.

Raised in a New England family by a thrifty German mother, I try to be very mindful not only about my leftovers but also my wardrobe. My beloved, however was raised by a mother who enjoyed abundance and showered it on her family. Sometimes we experience minor conflict around our divergent opinions. As the days go by, my refrigerator goes from full to empty and back again. Our closet, too has its moments. What matters to me is that we work out what constitutes enough for each of us, and that we make peace with our different opinions.

Comments? Questions? Suggestions? Write me at tashahal@gmail.com

Smelling the Roses

When I was growing up my life was oriented around the calendar and the seasons. Living in the country I experienced the different times of the year vividly. Each time of year had its treats and its special occasions. That which was associated with them was not present at other times of the year. I am still very much in the habit of this kind of thinking. Most of all what I especially notice is the flowers that grow only at certain times of the year.

Driving along our country roads I am bewitched and blessed by the scent of the small white wild roses blooming along their edges. Essentially weeds, they are invasive in the extreme as I found out when once upon a time I planted some by the fence of our pool. It was something of a struggle to decide whether the lovely smell that lasted a couple of weeks was really worth the impressive work of trying to contain the thorny vines the rest of the time.

The tiny white petaled roses that grow wild everywhere they are left to grow are considered a nuisance and can be quite invasive. They are not welcome except where other vines grow wild. I am so glad when the season of their blossoming arrives. When I am outside I have my nose on the alert for their beautiful scent. There are a few growing near my porch. Every time I am there I am treated to their heady scent.

I also appreciate the profusion of daylilies that follow on their heels. The daisies that decorate the side of the highway are another welcome sight. There is something wonderful to me about the way different flowers arrive at different times, each bringing the gift of its color and scent to the eye and nose. Were they all to bloom at once they would lose their specialness and while they would still be lovely, they would not have the quality of unique appearance that enhances their presence.

Still, the roses are my favorite. The fact that the their season is so brief makes these tiny wonders extra special to me. Such brevity is growing rare in my life. Many foods I enjoy that used to be seasonal are now available all year round. Yet I wait to savor them in season. Local corn on the cob tastes finer than any other kind. No matter how good the peaches or plums from elsewhere might taste in the winter, I don’t buy them. I look forward to the local ones from the farm stand.

Growing up I enjoyed the different pleasures and treats that came during the year. I looked forward to certain occasions: the circus was one, another were the church fairs that I went to with my grandmother. When something nice is found rarely or seldom it becomes more special. When everything is within reach or readily available specialness diminishes. I don’t mind waiting for the Concord grapes of August. Perhaps like birthdays that come once a year, they taste better for the anticipation.