Should you ever ask my mother, the problem-solving and
solution-obsessed Aries (Aries rules the head, therefore dilemmas swirl like
hurricanes in their heads until they are conquered), for guidance with a
problem, she would eventually challenge you to one of her favorite
exercises. To describe—in vivid and
obscene detail—your perfect day. My
mother is painfully and excruciatingly detailed. That energetic gold-green punctuated by
chalky white speckling Granny Smith (named for Maria Ann Smith, hybridized in
Australia in 1868) didn’t fall far from the tree with me. So perhaps that is why it’s so
effective. But basically, you map out a
day—when you’ll wake up, how long you’ll stay in bed before rising, etc—no
detail is too small.
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| Do you suppose this buck knows his crown puts him at risk? Uneasy lies the head... |
What this never fails to do is remind you that there is no
greater luxury than time. As you go
through your dream day, you don’t say I
wake up and check my Rolex for the time and hop into my Range Rover for some
bourgeois coffee. It’s all about
time. And as you say things about what
you might do in this dreamy, perfect day, you more or less realize they’re easy
things. Universal things. Some of us love to spend time in the garden
first thing in the morning, or commune a bit with nature and our dog. These things are about having and making time
more than they are about anything else.
My perfect day often includes an early rise, my normal coffee and
f-e-t-c-h routine with Barbie, and then shopping for ingredients. A day that is free needs structure for
me. Cooking is obviously how I prefer to create this.
At this magical time of year, when everything is so abundant
and fresh and you can taste summer in thousands of ways, nothing is more
inspiring than the farmers market. What
could be the repulsive piecemeal perfume of sticky peaches--and torn corn
silk--and pungent onions too fragile to have the dirt brushed off them--all
somehow blends beautifully with the overnotes of fresh tomato. On my dream days, it’s this time of
year.
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| Much to my delight, my friend Elizabeth of Frontier Farm needed some help at last week's farmers market. I helped her in the first busy hour of the market. I think working an hour at a farmers market now qualifies me as a gentleman farmer, right? |
It’s been a very busy, wonderful summer. I just haven’t had the time for a Saturday
like this yet. So with last Saturday
completely untouched, I decided to officially close my schedule for the day and
take it off. This is hard to do when
self-employed, but important from time to time.
It was kind of the light at the end of the tunnel for what I expected to
be a rough week as my little relationship burned out. And it kind of was. Not bad, but you know there’s always lots of
feelings to sort through. Especially for
me because I am so fucking sensitive. So
as I spent the week luxuriating in the melodramatic decadence of heartache, I
delighted in thinking of Saturday. I am full-bore on my real estate classes and
almost finished here in Ohio. I have a very promising prospect in Hilton Head
that would involve three properties for one family. So I’ll be deep in classes and testing over
the next two or three months and am very excited. Well by Friday, I was seeing my own
absurdity. That’s always a good mile
marker to reach, in my opinion. When you
can look in the mirror and tell yourself you’re full of shit. Things are more or less back to normal.
Then I went out to get the mail. I was expecting one package but there were
two. Shiiiiiit. This usually means two nights ago I was
typing in my Amazon password with one eye closed and wine mouth. What could it be?! Except I knew that wasn’t
it cause I didn’t have time to drink the week before (I know, tragedy). It is rare to get a truly unexpected
present. About this time last year, I
ordered a gravy boat on eBay. The next
day the seller sent me a refund and said actually it had chipped so she didn’t
want to send it. She relisted it
discounted, but I just moved on in my search.
So I come in and kind of nervously open the box to find that gravy boat
and a note. What a pleasant
surprise. This set the tone for the rest
of my weekend. I had a fabulous
time.
So, tell me, what's your perfect day?
