Tuesday tangles are often rather interesting. This morning we stepped out the back door for a few minutes and a very early lunch to see what the River Market Farmer’s market had to offer. Yum. Fresh squash and zucchini and onions and lettuces from the Oriental lady I love to buy from. Her hands are worn and stained. I asked her once if I might take a picture of her hands. She was a bit hesitant and so I didn’t get a clear view of just her hands.
But aren’t they beautiful? Work worn and beautiful!
I bought fresh local blueberries and couldn’t resist a ginormous blueberry pancake for dinner. Tomorrow I’m thinking oatmeal and fresh blueberries for breakfast. It’s steel cut oats in the crockpot tonight!
Zucchini and marinara with spaghetti on Thursday sounds much better than the ubiquitous hot dogs.
Today was a good day. It moved in some strange circles, but it was a good day. A bit of fiction was on my mind and so I present it to you today. Hope you don’t mind if more of this comes. I’m going to call this ‘format’ Bit Fiction as it is a bit more than hint.
The road was one of switchbacks, blind curves, and steep grades. She easily navigated the fifty mile descent from Grandmere’s farm in less than fifty minutes, a singular record among the living.
She was skilled, playing the gears on her old car with great finesse. She had mastered her Stradivarius and it responded to her gentle touch.
On this day her tears might have been an impediment to her descent, but the road’s familiar landscape echoed a life, full of twists and turns, yet well lived. The car’s familiar rumble and sway soothed as had Grandmere’s laugh and the honored seat in her lap in the front porch rocking chair.
Elsbeth downshifted to slow, maneuvering into the last hairpin, feeling the tires grip the blacktop, the gears mumble a bit as her speed dropped. She shifted back up to begin acceleration again in the middle of the curve, her hands relaxed on the gear shift and steering wheel. She sighed with satisfaction.
Elsbeth’s trip down the mountain was but a memory now, as was Grandmere, but the spirit of the ride would never fade.
Happy Wednesday and thanks to all of you who read my mental meanderings.