Fresh dirt.

My wellies are salty from the ocean, and my sink is dirty. I mean really gritty, silted, covered in Scottish dirt.

I like the local food shops here in Scotland, and Whole Foods in America, but come spring each year, I start a-wishing for the farm stands. I love the overflowing baskets of fresh-picked nectarines and corn, and the windows open to sun and fields that smell of rich earth. I grew up making mud pies, a dying art, it seems, so call me a hippie if you will.

This is all to say: an instant happened yesterday I've been waiting for for months. I'd insert into random conversations Guess what I'm excited about next week? or Guess what I'm excited about in two days? and Walker would always guess. Guess what I'm excited about this afternoon?

It came! My veg box! A local farm delivers assortments of fresh, organic produce and fruit fortnightly, and although potatoes and onions are standard, the remainder is whatever's in season. Goodbye heavy lugging of pesticided potatoes from Tesco! Although the veggies were in a mesh bag not a box, believe me, I wasted no time in getting the loot out


in quite the flurry; the element of not knowing what's coming is genius. Leeks! Parsnips! Oranges! For instants of unexpected freshness, we smile, dream of a vegetable garden someday, and anticipate the next fortnight. (There, I’ve said ‘fortnight’ twice in one post.)


My mom is probably laughing as she reads this, as she used to pick up a similar box of organic vegetables before they were widely available in grocery stores, and in the beginning I hated going. Until I discovered things like tomatillos. I kid you not, I once made a tomatillo crisp. Never again.

I whipped out some farmer's market chicken and promptly used the leeks and potatoes from the veg box for some sides. Maybe it's my over-eager imagination and my kind husband, but we both agreed: this food tastes real, this food tastes soo good. And, all the dirt washed down the drain like a charm.


And in lieu of all things organic, let me go on to tell you about our days. They have been organic. Fresh rain, baby. I vacuum once a day, it seems, from all the encroaching dirt. The 'grit', as they call it, still covers the roads from the days of snow (may they come back soon!) and the rain sticks it to our heels.


Days like these make me stand by the window begging the sun to please come back---you were just here, where did you go? and sometimes looking over and, floored, see a shock of blue outside.

Our days are still short, and weather in Scotland is finicky as a toddler, but we've tried to get out on beach walks and I'm 2 for 3 the past few days. Walker is devouring the old lecture slides and fat Econ books, so most of our time is quiet inside, the only sounds typing and paper rubbing against itself from sitting too long.

In nods to old posts, I'm more than happy to that our Christmas tree's alive and kicking in his pot outside. Happy days, indeed!


And, I've defrosted some apples for Round Two of apple crisp days.

I randomly found a file of favorite quotes yesterday, one from A Thousand Splendid Suns where Babi says, Some [things] you learn from books. But there are things that, well, you just have to see and feel. Knobby carrots, and snappy pears, gentle winter waves, and horse-shoe prints in the cool sand. Life is fresh this week.

Some hot apple crisp is waiting for me to dig in!