Casting About for Joy

It began with a trip to the farmers market today. The first this season. They've moved it again, but that's okay. The new location is a bit closer to home; the parking is free; and it's much easier to get to. 

I don't mind that it's a movable feast.

Today's plans with my son also were a movable feast. I had to think a minute this morning before I remembered which version we settled on. I'd let him know my day was flexible, but for one thing. 

A quick trip to the farmers market in the morning.

Most years, I've gone every week. I always loved it when it was in the middle of Princeton, in a public square-type space. It was fun to spend the morning, move slowly through the market, and then amble up and down Witherspoon Street, stopping at shops or stopping in for a cup of tea at Small World. 

That was before Covid. I can't remember if the the market was offered in 2020. Last year, though, it was offered in a parking lot, away from the town center. This year it's farther out still. It seems to mirror the way community continues to move farther away from itself with the changes Covid continues to bring. 

Still, it was lovely to visit, to see familiar vendors, to discover new wonders. Like the Turkish stand with home crafted cheese, meat, and vegetable hand pies. They've also got apple hand pies that remind me of strudel. And the Turkish delight! Home made. I've never had anything like it.

At a favorite organic farm's stand, there were beautiful sunflowers, small and golden. I prayed they would make it home without wilting, and they did. They brighten my kitchen counter  where all my veg purchases wait for me to put them away. There's a sink full of dishes, also waiting. Greasy paper bags are torn open and slices of a cheese hand pie and apple hand pie made an easy and tasty dinner. The phone keeps ringing, and I keep hitting the "Can I call you later?" prompt. Last night I picked up a call while writing and didn't get back to it for 90 minutes, my original thoughts forgotten.

There's no way I'm doing that tonight. I've been casting about for joy, and the thread can be elusive. Right now, it's the golden head of a small bouquet of sunflowers peeking over the mess in my kitchen that delights.

Creating Space: Three Months of Showing Up for What's Showing Up is a daily writing practice. Turns out  that a lot of this writing explores the landscape of grief. My mother died shortly before I  began this writing, and this is what I'm thinking about most of the time these days.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.