I won’t deny a somewhat lingering feeling of wanting to travel again, this being the time of year we usually spend sucking up quality beauty in Venice, which, believe me, I know, sounds excessively sumptuous in a blasé kind of way, but this cowl does not make the monk as it was more like a guilty pleasure, although I agree with Fran Lebowitz’s assessment of that expression in the excellent ‘Pretend it’s a city’, now streaming on Netflix, as there can not be guilt in any pleasure unless there’s murder involved.
The same fool’s paradise, this longing for tropical heat when low temperatures rule in Les Pierres, got us into a Russian version of a winter holiday before, so I better be careful what I’m wishing for and count our blessings whilst staying put.
I’ve often wondered, this past year of alienating new circumstances that contradictory enough brought us so much breathing space, when old habits would start to show themselves again and how to deal with them in light of the change in moral checkpoints, but I guess my covetousness isn’t strong enough yet for a final answer.
Considering the horrors so many have had to endure and the blessings we received by already having chosen for this confinement before it became a general rule to live by, it’s kind of scary to realize how much better off we are now compared to last year, even with the latest household inconveniences only partly resolved as of yet. Loss somehow became gain, not just in the dog department, but in all profuse prolepses a true life’s turning point emerged.
There’s many places in the world I still hope to see with my own eyes and only when I do I will know why it was important to begin with, but for now and for as long as it takes, there’s way more comfort in pretending an obvious reality, as shiny as tropical tubers in a dark, died down container, totally forgotten, comme d’habitude, but greatly adding to the surprise needed to brighten up this grey winter day.
On our dinner plate tonight: chilli and garlic roasted Oxalis tuberosa, Oca du Peru as the French say, with a pesto of hazelnuts and a Carrot Top Pistou with Lemon, all from the garden. Look who’s traveling now.
