When I started this blog, one of the beautiful things about it was the constant sense of completion. I would type up an entry and upload it and BAM! Done. Something finished. Not like that unending pile of essays, or that constantly growing pile of laundry, and clothes to be mended, and the herd of dust bunnies building a warren under my bed that needs to be extricated. And now it has been months since I have uploaded an entry, although I have about a dozen unfinished entries. They just seem out of season now – one about recycling pumpkins, another about voting, giving thanks, it just goes on and on.
So here we are in the Christmas season. We bid a fond adieu to our CSA a couple of weeks ago at the Smoked Pork/Winter Veggie sale, where we stood in the snow around a little bonfire, waiting for the doors to open on the last of the veggies and some excellent smoked pork products. The conversation rolled from vegetables, to bacon, to backyard chickens, to Saturnalia. And although I don’t really know any of these people, I felt a special kinship with my Fernbrook fellows, standing there getting smoke in my eyes. The community that developed through the CSA is so connected. Even when the CSA is crowded on a Saturday morning, there isn’t that sense of, well, whatever it is that I get when I walk into Whole Foods. Now, I’m not bashing Whole Foods – the store and its staff are wonderful. However, many of the customers could do with a quick lesson in kindness and consideration. Nothing like getting hip-checked off the peanut butter grinder to say, “Happy Holidays!” I got a little verklempt standing there talking with my comrades, basking in the kinship. Just another facet of the CSA food miracle.
I do not differentiate between large and small miracles because all things that unexpectedly work out to make my life better seem miraculous. My son was stationed less than 200 miles from home. That was a miracle. My daughter does not sass-mouth me. Her respect for others and for herself is a miracle. My younger son found $10 at the store and came home and put it in the Tzedaka (charity) jar. His constantly generous heart is a miracle. I made a batch of grapefruit marmalade and I didn’t have to re-cook it to make it gel. That too was a miracle. The chickens are almost done molting and someone laid an egg yesterday. My list just goes on and on. Christmas is a time for miracles.
I sincerely hope that this season brings many miracles into your life.