I had to go to the dentist this afternoon (they are putting in a crown on the crownless root canal tooth I had worked on before Kate was born). Driving home from downtown around 4:30 pm, I got to see the most spectacular sunset.
OK not the most spectacular, because every sunset is spectacular. In its own way. Like every snowflake is spectacular. Like every dog. Every cat. Every human being.
Anyway, it was gorgeous and beautiful and breathtaking. I kept trying to focus on driving but all I really wanted to do was breathe in this incredible sunset.
Suddenly it struck me that the majority (like 90%) of the cars were coming in the opposite direction. The majority of people on the road WERE MISSING THIS SUNSET. It then occurred to me that all these people make this commute every day and they all miss the sunset. Not only that, but they miss the sunrise too.
All these people, working so hard, swimming upstream. And a few of us lucky (I don't really believe in luck) bastards get to swim downstream… happily driving west, toward the ocean, marveling at the splendor of the divine.
And to think it was going to the dentist that allowed me to witness this. Clouds with silver linings.
I too miss the sunrise and sunset most days — not because I'm stuck in a car going the wrong way — but because our house doesn't have a view.
I decided right then that our next house will have a view of at least sunrise and/or sunset. Heck, why not both? Maybe we'll have sunrise in one room or on one patio — with our morning coffee — and sunset on a deck or in a den. Ahh, doesn't that sound fantastic?
Yes, yes it does. And I have experienced enough times in my life the reality of visualization creating manifestations. I have done it so many times. I know it works. So I'm going to create our next house. It's going to be huge and rambling and modern and elegant. With alternative energy and a gourmet kitchen and filtered water and showers and unbelievable gardens and a salt water swimming pool.
Fun to think about. Happy where I am and eager for more, as Abe says.
Tonight I made the most delicious salad — the “High Enzyme Salad” from the Nourishing Traditions cookbook. Sprouted sunflower seeds, grated carrots and raw cheddar cheese, chopped cucumber, red bell pepper and zucchini (I added that last one) on a bed of greens with a vinaigrette dressing. I forgot the avocado and green onion — oh well.
We had that and shrimp sauteed in lemon butter sauce along with some ceviche I got from Rawesome. Along with some Gewurtztraminer from Roshambo that didn't taste peppery and spicy like most Gewurtzes — it was like honey. Nice with this meal.
Went and checked on the baby. Nothing sweeter than a little chubs all tucked in and sleeping soundly. I held her hand and she grunted and tossed.
I can hear Seth snoring now in the bedroom. Life is good.
I enjoy my life so much these days. Washing and drying cloth diapers, folding them and putting them away next to the changing table. Making the homemade formula in the blender, filling glass bottles and lining them up in the fridge. Making chicken stock and baby food puree, storing it in ice trays — butternut squash, zucchini, carrots, apple sauce, papaya, cantaloupe, and chicken liver pate. Lots to do but it is all enjoyable.
Funny, I was at Rawesome today, doing my shopping. James, the owner, greeted me with an enthusiastic, “Hello!” I was thinking about him as I shopped, thinking about how happy he always seems. He's passionate (just ask him about the politics around raw milk or raw almonds in California and you'll see how passionate he is). But it's not an angry passion. It's a joyful vitality. Something so many people are missing. There is nothing about him that seems depressed or repressed. He is real. He is vital.
And I was thinking about him and how much he must love his job. He gets to bring good, raw, organic food to the people. Food you can't find at Ralph's. You seriously can't. I can't get pastured eggs at Ralph's or Trader Joe's or even Whole Food's. Rawesome is it.
And he is supporting farmers. It's got to feel good to know that the chicken lady has customers for her pastured eggs. She's making money, and people are getting good food.
Anyway, that is how I feel about being a mom. I don't mind washing cloth diapers. I don't mind spending hours researching nutrition and scouting out the healthiest foods and taking the time to prepare them the old-fashioned ways — instead of just throwing something in the microwave. Like James at Rawesome, I feel like what I am doing is important. I am needed. And I am passionate about this. It makes me want to get out of bed in the morning.
And there's something so comforting and warm about a home with a big basket full of fresh organic fruits on the kitchen counter, a stockpot of chicken or beef stock simmering, a fridge full of fresh raw milk and pastured eggs. I know that I am helping my family become healthier.
I know, the results aren't in yet. We've only been doing this for a few months. We did cure Kate's cradle cap and Seth lost a few pounds… but I predict we will see bigger results in the long term.
In the meantime, I'm just happy.
Happy where I am and eager for more.
Isn't that how little kids look at life? Maybe that's why they spend so much time laughing and tickling each other and rolling in grass and making mud pies and snorting milk out of their noses.
Maybe we should all do more of that. All of that. And watch more sunsets.
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