60 Eggs Are Better Than A Basket Of Rubies

I am sitting at my old desk, my dream desk -mid century modern "roll top" with the delightfully spare design of a streamlined mind.  I don't know why it is but I wanted to tell you about my desk first.  There is so much to say.  But first you must know how much I love this desk.  We bought it for our retail store and when we closed the store Philip mentioned using it for himself and I felt a surprising rush of possessiveness and told him it was time he took over my 1000 pound 1940's executive desk which easily dwarfs most rooms it graces.  It is manly and can bear the weight of the world.  But it isn't the desk of a writer like me.  I need the secret spaces, the little drawers in which to stow my stolen scarlet runner bean seeds, I need the curves and the tight spaces it will fit into.  It is in front of a window which mostly looks out on our dilapidated chimney.  I watch the wasps nest in their paper hives all day while I work, while I write, and while I play. 

I am here at my desk letting the glitter of this day settle itself on my skin, still drifting down like delicate flakes of effervescence that have an all night after glow.  It has been one of those days.  It's hard to put into words.  I could tell you all the specific details and you would yawn wide and your own thoughts would drift sideways until you are in your own little world, which probably isn't a bad place to be.  I don't want to give you the details yet. 

I want to tell you that I received many gifts this week and I am floating on all the good will that has been dished out to me in so many different ways, making my life feel awfully rich and textured with the most saturated threads a person can create with their own hands and imagination.  It's queer when I think about how I was feeling a week ago.  I do think there's a lot to be said for karma.  To let things go from your life that aren't healthy and then to feel in your heart when you've been a crude and small person and to find your way back to the person you really are- life reflects these things back to us all the time. 

I think the most marvelous thing that has happened to me this week was being given 60 fresh laid eggs.  Eggs are magic.  They are all curves and potent punches of the most essential nutrition humans (and most animals) need.  They are like gold.  Each one is precious and represents a life that might have been, but wasn't.  As a vegetarian I am conscious of what an egg truly is.  I respect them, what they mean to the hens that lay them.  I am not sorry to steal eggs from hens but I know what it is I'm stealing and the value of the loot. 

We don't quite know how we're going to make it to the next pay day.  It isn't that our larder is bare.  We are well stocked.  But there was a question in my mind- what if we don't have enough money for eggs and milk and coffee?  Not starvation.  We are not quite that close.  No one need worry. 

Then a sweet couple here in McMinnville who read my blog asked me if I wanted some eggs.  They have 67 hens!  They were concerned I wasn't getting enough protein and thought that may be the origin of my repulsive lip disease.  I told them that I was pretty sure I was getting enough protein but I would never say no to fresh laid eggs.  Because I'm not an idiot.  I met them today.  I thought they had a spare dozen for me.  I brought a jar of my garlic dill pickles in exchange.  Before I left I threw in two pot holders I had made for the store because I couldn't stand how kind and generous these people were who wanted to share their eggs with me. 

People: they brought me 60 eggs!  (But that's not all they brought- they also brought me a crepe mix of their own making, and some special chicken food for my three hens...thank god I grabbed those pot holders for them!) 

They aren't just 60 ordinary eggs- they are such gorgeous varying shades of tan, deep brown, delicately speckled, light olive green, and light blue too.  They uncovered this basket of treasure and I swear it was better than having a basket of rubies.

So I've been thinking today about how the raw materials in my life make me feel like a sultan even when my cash flow is as active as right wing Republican's imagination.*  Earlier in the week another friend hooked me up with free grapes and I am making grape juice for Max and feeding him the only grapes he likes now (fresh, organic, and home grown).  I might be cursing our lack of funds next weekend when I really want beer again and we have no money to buy it with but there is no reason for me to feel sorry for myself because I have a deliciously aged strawberry liqueur in the cabinet, a few bottles of good wine (all gifts from family and friends!), and when we feel our most vulnerable and lush-like we can always crack open the bottle of moonshine we've been hoarding and really make a party of going blind.

There is such abundance here.  In my life.  In my friends.  And that means I'm one hell of a lucky human being.

There was a gift of another kind this week too.  Yesterday we were driving somewhere in the car and I was telling Philip to remind me that I needed to come downtown today to pick up some eggs that someone was giving me and Max was listening.  He suddenly says "I think it's really cool that you can have chickens and get free eggs right in your own yard."  This from a kid who rarely eats eggs.  But then he continues "I mean, it's awesome that you can grow things in your own yard like food."  I'm thinking I may have died and gone to heaven hearing my son say such a thing.  But he had more to add.  "I love that you can grow things like elderberries in your own garden and then make stuff out of it." 

I'm starting to think I must be doing something right.

Thank you John and Jin- your gifts to me are gorgeous, tasty, sustaining, and generous!  Thank you Amanda for taking me with you to Hope's house to pick grapes (and thank you Hope!!!).  Thank you Max for appreciating the important things in life even if you won't put them in your own mouth.





*Yes.  I really did just say that.