Last year around this time, I was going through something. I don’t know what it was. As my yoga teacher used to say, “You’re just passing through something,” which I love the image of – it means there’s another side to the darkness of the place you’re in.
My voice teacher, constantly seeing me as a young version of herself, understands the fact that I can be extremely tightly wound, anxious, panicky about the future, and generally have a strong need to be in control. Yes, I’m a treat.
Well, she gave me a gift no one has ever given me – a bunch of iris bulbs. On a particularly crappy day I hunkered down with my trowel. I remember not even wearing gloves, I just needed to dig, and do something earthy, and feel like there was something much more tangible under my feet than in my head. So I planted them. It felt extremely symbolic, like I was burying my troubles and letting them grow into something else.
And then our landscapers chopped ’em. Continuously. I was sure they were done for, but little did I know.
When it started warming up, they started leafing. Yesterday, they had a bud.
So intricately beautiful, beyond anything a human could create.
I read that irises are symbolic of faith, hope, wisdom, and courage – things that I desperately needed last year. And amazingly, all the things that had me in knots last year kept me in knots until very recently, when suddenly answers started appearing, as these irises started proving me wrong: chopping something to the ground does not mean it is hopeless.
I should mention that as a teenager, I thought gardening was… stupid. In fact, I am sure that in a diary somewhere I wrote, gardens are stupid. I know, whatever. But my parents were always outside gardening! What the what is so great about it, I pondered. As an adult, I found myself thrilled when I moved in with Tim that we had both hydrangeas and peonies, but to be honest, I didn’t know what either one was except that mom and dad would always say, “Nat, look at the hydrangeas! They’re so beautiful!” and I would likely roll my eyes and mutter “…yup.”
This year I have been waiting for them to grow. I am so excited about THIS:
A peony bud in my front garden
I hope my mommy is happy that I’m happy about this 🙂
And now for what this blog is REALLY about… food! But I gotta be honest. We’ve been crazy busy, so our meals have kind of slipped away from creative and amazing. I’ve enjoyed some smoothies…
I think this one was banana, mango, and greek yogurt. Divine.
Lookin' all dreamy after my massage - and my hair was janked!
And this mmmm-iness was banana, strawberry, pineapple juice with protein powder enjoyed after a massage yesterday. It was from one of my favorite establishments ever, Longbranch Coffeehouse.
It’s just been busy. We purged our closets last week. This is what came of it:
I don’t even think we went to the store this week. I’ve been scrounging things from the pantry and fridge. For instance, one day for lunch I had this:
But I didn't eat the book.
Hydroponic lettuce is the jam
But don’t let looks fool you – the chicken was already cooked, and the egg.. well…
Yep. It was an Easter egg before I ate it.
And the goat cheese was leftover from Tim’s birthday. It was still absolutely goat cheese-y. The Ezekiel bread was tasty as ever, and the pear was a little past its prime so most of it ended up in the trashcan, but everything else was great.
And if you haven’t read Tina Fey’s book, ya better start.