Roadside Time

I love roadside stands and all they stand for.

Yesterday, a man sat in front of a simple folding table under a vinyl tent, on a busy street corner in the liquor store parking lot. He had baskets of early peaches, green plums, and cucumbers.

What caught my eye, though, were the tomatoes: full of beautiful red summertime glory. I watched the old man take each tomato, cradle it in his hand, inspect it, and carefully polish it clean with a soft rag. He then gently placed each one in a small cardboard basket, stacking them carefully on top of one another.

It was beautiful to watch. Do I do anything anymore with that much care? Do I make the time to create something lovely?

I pulled into the lot, and we talked quite a while about life on the farm. Mr. Clarence was born in 1924 (yes, I asked!), and remembered walking behind a mule and a plow. He now has time to sell these vegetables in this little roadside stand. He sits in 90+ degree weather, patiently waiting for customers.

I thought about Mr. Clarence as I enjoyed my first tomato sandwich of the summer. I pray he sold all his vegetables, and pray for all of the roadside vendors who keep going, despite the big-box stores and chain supermarkets. Every year, the number of roadside stands seem to dwindle. We will have lost something very special in our landscape and community fabric if the roadside stand ever goes away.

Be well.

Hundred Bucks and 1 to Grow On

This weekend, that old awful rumbling feeling reappeared. That sickening feeling that comes from knowing that some big expenses are looming in the distance. That sinking feeling that has not come along this way in such a...very...long...time.

It all boils down to this: I like having money in the bank, paying my bills, having a solid credit score, etc. (Vanity or security blanket-- perhaps both.)

I recently made the decision to sell my 2nd home. As the realtor and I kept adding to the to-do list this weekend, the calculators in my head were spinning. It's going to take money to do all of this: MY money!

And so today, as I inwardly fretted about all the brown bag lunches and delayed vacation plans, I squeaked with joy as I emptied the trash today. Inside the bag was a hundred dollar bill -- money that had been accidentally swept off the kitchen table, along with a pile of junk mail and receipts.

$100 doesn't go as far as it used to, but for today, it gave me hope that everything is going to be okay.

Be well.

Recalculating

Kindness is doable.

Kindness seems easier than being perfect or saintly.

The bumper sticker motto, "Just Be Nice" seems achievable.

It's a modern take on The Golden Rule, which says we are to love our neighbors as our self. But how do you love your neighbor if you are not gentle with your own flaws and shortcomings?

That is the gist of this beautiful radio program:

http://being.publicradio.org/programs/2011/what-we-nurture/transcript.shtml

I understood clearly Dr. Boorstein's analogy of the forgiving, unflustered GPS. With every mistaken turn, the machine calmly says, "Recalculating" and gets you back on the right path. No matter how many times you make a wrong turn, without judgment or frustration, it merely replies, "Recalculating."

What if we could turn off the static and turn on our inner GPS? How much simpler life's journey could be if we could simply forgive ourselves our numerous slips and detours.

This resulting kindness would then allow us to nurture others on their own path. No one walks alone, if they show kindness to another.

Be well.