What are your favorite bedtime books?

Bedtime Books 

The past few nights have been hot. I would’ve used the term ‘sweltering’ but after reading about chinchillas, I am not sure. They are the ones that live in the sweltering volcanic regions. I live in a place that is hot in summer. It is hot till the air conditioner kicks in. I was over-stimulated and was looking for something soothing to calm down and go to bed.

I sighed, and picked up a book from my latest set of creature books. (I need to put up a separate post on them soon)

The Bedtime Book of Nighttime Animals: More Than 100 Creatures Who Come Out to Play When You Go to Bed

Why this strange fascination for creature books?

What is this strange fascination with children’s books on creatures, you ask. To that, I say, if you aren’t reading them, you’re missing out on life. Take for instance this set of books that I have been reading, admiring and glancing through every chance I get. Sometimes, we think being a human is all there is to life. But is it? A book like this is marvelous to imagine all the creatures out and about on Earth just as we tuck ourselves into bed. I felt a pang for the times the children and I would read these kind of books when they were toddlers. So, maybe it is just a little piece of that I cling to when reading these books. 

I know the children as toddlers would have been enthralled by the names of the creatures in this book: Tasmanian devils, roborovski monsters, spinner dolphins, pipstrelles, kakapo, natterjack toad, kuhli loach. If I were a rap singer with any sort of talent, just imagine rapping the names of the creatures who are up at night.

Imagine being a kinkajou?

Still unable to sleep, I sat with a strange urge for a midnight snack and wondered whether to get out of bed, go downstairs, and then decided against it. Now, if I were a kinkajou that would not be a problem at all, would it?

The kinkajous live on trees, and think nothing of hanging from them for a midnight snack. They love to raid beehives for honey, and being nocturnal means that the bees must be in residence when they do so. If that isn’t brave, I don’t what is.

  • Why does the kinkajou not get stung by bees? Because the bees are asleep!
  • And what of blood sugar at night? The kinkajou doesn’t care.

I flipped a few more pages, and there staring at me was the roborovski hamster. It is the smallest and fastest hamster in the world. Why the long name, Roborovski? I think it is brilliant.  “Roborovski hamster – come here this instant!” And he vanishes before you finish calling his name. See? 

As I nodded off to sleep, I couldn’t help thinking of the cute chinchillas who are so smart that when caught by predators, they simply shrug off their fur and take off into the silver night. They manage to sleep during the day in hot volcanic regions, I am sure I should be able to sleep now, I told myself and thought of all the happy creatures sleeping at night and all the ones enjoying themselves in the light of the stars.

The Unlikely Friendships of Larks & Koalas

Sunrise! Sunrise! Please don’t sing!

It was one of those swift week-end trips to the Pacific Northwest. An early morning flight to catch meant that we were out before the sun rose. Watching the sunrise is something I do not do often, but when I do, I like it to be just the way I am. A little sleepy, groggy, the rays of the sun slowly brightening the skies. Taking its time. 

I have written about this appalling tendency of some people to get up and switch themselves on like fluorescent flashlights illuminating an international football stadium. The daughter and yours truly are not like that. We like to take our time. Rise and shine in slow motion after a cup of coffee preferably. We have just switched out from another realm of our dreams to earth, and we like to adjust.

The daughter looked like a rock. Literally. She had a brown hoodie pulled over her head, and looked slightly delirious if addressed. Clearly wishing to be left alone. Her eyelids drooping behind the eyelids. Yours Truly did not have the hoodie, but I was yawning so relentlessly even after a shower and a cup of coffee, that no one but visiting fruit flies should have come near me.

The husband, on the other hand, had this beaming smile on his face, and was … get this … hold your breath … dancing to the appalling music he had on. The daughter and I moaned, but it didn’t seem to deter him. Feigning sleep only seemed to make this enthusiasm worse. “Come on!”, he said with an exaggerated dance move that made the car swerve a bit with the early morning winds of the bay.

Sunrises soothe souls

I was lost for a solution when I peeked outside and the caught the pinkening of the skies. Like soothing an overactive child, I directed his attention to the skies. He wow-ed and look-ed – but at least the dancing had stopped. The daughter’s feeble , “Good job ma!” Was all the appreciation I needed. The sunrise had given us all what we were looking for.

What was it that made some of us diurnal creatures and others nocturnal? How is it some of us are koalas and groggy after 18 hours of sleep and a dose of eucalyptus oils, while others chirp and think nothing of belting out that early morning birdsong and hopping about – what are these birds? Yes, larks.

We were like larks and koalas in the mornings, and somehow, we manage to shake down together on this earth. Talk about unlikely friendships and all that.

Are you good at this-and-that OR that-and-this?

Indians in India have this habit of rising at ungodly hours to drink coffee. Even when there is nothing much to be done for the rest of the day. Why potter about at 5:30 in the morning, rouse the household, and drink coffee if you are only to get into bed for a nap at 11 a.m?

There have been plenty of studies showing that an early riser is good and this-and-that, while late-night folks are good at that-and-this. 

This turtle that I saw in the Pacific Northwest after a good few hours of sunshine, was rising and clearly taking its time. I saw it shrinking from the energetic joggers and speed walkers, and felt a sense of kinship with it. Even though I got a baleful look at the fact that I crouched down to take its picture that early in the morning, I thought I’d share it with my readers. 

So tell me. How are you in the mornings?

Yoga Audiences

We were doing yoga on the lawn. It isn’t too much to say that we were being spoiled by the hot summer days and a generous neighbor with a fantastic backyard. It felt luxurious even if the rest of the day did not feel that way.

Lawn yoga is a source of great joy to birds, squirrels and cats in the neighborhood too. Today, it was the crows and blue jays who provided us with entertainment. Or at least they provided us with as much entertainment as we provided them. I could almost see the crow’s smirk at our crow pose and pigeon pose.

The Bird’s Eye View

The blue jays were more vociferous in their appreciation, or maybe it was their fight for the tallest bough in the trees. They both seemed territorial for the perch, and I wondered not for the first time, how it must be to fly and select a tree upon which to alight and take in the world.

If ever there was a meditative pursuit there’s one. I would love to flit and perch on a tree, taking in the sights of my fellow beings doing yoga on the grass below.

The cats, crows and blue jays seem to have understood the essence of living far better than we did, however, and for the whole hour, that we stretched and pulled our muscles, they did their own set of stretching their wings and paws with ease, a smile in their easy postures, and a certain earnest interest in the abilities of human-beings.

The cats are an especially discerning audience. They seem to raise one eye if you get the cat pose wrong, and show you how to do the down-dog pose without trying.

Strangely Un-extraordinary Creatures

It had been an interesting, if somewhat tiring day. I was up to my neck with deadlines, and I felt a certain helpless anxiety pervading the system, as I headed out to do my yoga. After an hour of stretching this-and-that, and more importantly watching my fellow creatures stretch this-and-that, I was filled with amusement, and strangely a sense of hope.

After all, if we could find a way to muddle along on this planet, when our capabilities are not extraordinary compared to our fellow creatures, we could figure out deadlines couldn’t we?

Yoga itself, I mused as I made my way back to my duties, was a result of human-kind trying their best to fit into the natural world around them. It is an art to remind us that we are more than our task-lists, accomplishments, and capabilities, and no more than simple breathing creatures who must learn to use their bodies to the best of our abilities and settle into the world around us.

The cat brushed against my legs – a rare act of acknowledgement, as it usually acted like it was the queen, and I was a peasant hoping for a favor.  I bent down to pat her, and she allowed me to do so. I must’ve done my cat pose well today.

The Stars Shine On

It was the 4th of July. The 250th anniversary. While the younger ones braved the crowds and went to the city to watch fireworks, we stayed away from the crowds and went to see the fireworks nearby in the residential neighborhoods instead.

We were high spirited after a fantastic dinner topped with ice-cream – sugar high as it were. That’s why you may or may not have found us slightly dizzy chanting the Pledge of Allegiance as the stars shone down on us – maybe from the fluttering flag or the skies above. Who knows?

We found a beautiful park after driving around looking for fireworks . It turned out to be one of those places folks like to give fancy names like ‘Cultural icon’.

Zoetropes 

The son keeps talking about zoetropes. I never knew what they were. “They are cool!” I agreed after he showed me what zoetropes were. Much like kaleidoscopes – tricky to get right and innately interesting once you do.

The son has always liked animation, so he has been babbling on about the zoetropes for a while now. I suspect it has to do with the ice cream store nearby, rather than the zoetropes themselves. Nevertheless, we were properly enthused after an evening admiring fireworks from the distance (fireworks aren’t allowed in our city, but the neighboring city goes nuts every year, and we get to watch).

Fireworks always brings the magic or the yearning for magic in us. So, we went looking for the zoetropes – animated films captured magic, didn’t they? After all, this was one of 1st places in which Hollywood would’ve been had it not been for the city of angels taking it on instead. We spun the zoetropes admiring the initial attempts at animation.

Really, human beings are marvelous; I don’t know whether any other species writes draws and paints the way we do! I thought of all the beautiful murals on buildings in San Francisco, so many underground passes and bridges with graffiti on them (aspiring to be art in some cases, but good in other cases).

After an evening of popping and flashing fireworks, and a set of spinning zoetropes, I felt a little dizzy, and steadied myself looking up at the stars.

The Stars Shine Down

It was a beautiful evening. The stars do shine down with an exaggerated brilliance after the artificial brilliance of the fireworks, don’t they? The spinning must be the zoetrope-effect, but it made for a Starry Night feeling.

After some time, we bought our gaze down towards the American flag fluttering in the breeze and felt a sense that in time all will be well. We just need to keep the magic of life alive. The stars shine on. The flag flutters on. America goes on. 

It was time to chant the Pledge of Allegiance and we did just that. Beautiful evenings come in various forms. As we headed home afterwards – flushed with fireworks, zinging after the zoetropes, spinning stars, fluttering flags etc, we were filled with hope. 

Equal opportunity mispronunciations

I was attending a graduation ceremony in the USA and wondering how they managed to get so many of the names mispronounced. In fact, at that point, more than 3/4th of the names were mispronounced in one way or the other. Latin American names, Indian names, Chinese names, Jewish names, African American names, Greek names, Arabic names—everyone’s names were equally butchered. Equal-opportunity mispronunciations.

The world, whether we like it or acknowledge it, has become more global in its make-up than it has ever been. So, learning how to say each other’s name, is more important than ever. For that, learning the importance of one’s name is quite as important, isn’t it?

Sitting outdoors on that sunny afternoon,  I reflected on Suma Subramaniam’s book, My Name is as Long as a River.

My Name is as Long as a River By: Suma Subramanian

Suma Subramaniam writes about South Indian life, and is a member of the WNDB (We Need Diverse Books) initiative.

This particular book is especially relevant as there are many children with long names in schools these days.

In the book, the child is named after the river Kaveri. In fact her full name is: Kaveri Thanjavur Jayalakshmi Ganesan.

Kaveri : the name of the river she is named after. A beautiful river in South India, it is the harbinger of prosperity in the South. The rice fields, temple towns, and estuaries are the centres of culture and history millennia old. The Kaveri river waters literally help feed millions of people.

Kaveri is embarrassed by her long name in the USA, and has shortened it to Kav because it is consistently mispronounced, but after visiting her grandmother along the banks of the river Kaveri, she learns the significance of her beautiful name.

“Ganesan is my father.

Jayalakshmi is my mother.

Thanjavur is where I was born.

Kaveri is who I am.

My name is: Kaveri Thanjavur Jayalakshmi Ganesan.”

Tara Anand’s illustrations combined with Suma Subramaniam’s writing makes it a truly wonderful book, and one I think many teachers will love to use in their diverse classrooms.

What’s in a name?

For a person whose name is as long as a river, I loved the book. I know that the daughter has shortened her name with a beautiful Tamil meaning to mean something ‘brave and bold’ in Irish. I have a Starbucks-name, a more lilting explanation for those who are in the mood to try a few Hawaiian excursions into the language if they really want to pronounce my name, and so on.

I‘ve often asked children to help me understand the significance, meaning and cultural importance of their names. There are so many origins of names – some religious, some mythical, some nature-based, some philosophical references: the list is truly as varied as the names themselves.

It is curious how willingly they answer this question when younger, and then seem to almost drift away as teens for the same question. Like they would all just love to be called the same thing: wall, plant, brick. I understand it, wanting to blend in is an innate characteristic (Be a Roman in Rome & all that – the adage didn’t start yesterday did it?)

At some point in early adulthood though, the innate need to return to your unique name, hopefully, kicks in.

The magic of names

My thoughts drifted to Ursula K Le Guin, whose writings, if I remember correctly, also had a lot of interesting names. Naming was important to her. It set the place, the setting, even the story forward. How easily we can imagine an island kingdom, separate from a desert oasis town, or a hillside rural area by the names alone?

Now, pluck all these characters and have them live together in a university, and the resulting entertainment from the names is enough to tide guests through a whole afternoon.

“To weave the magic of a thing, you see, one must find its true name out… for there is great power, and great peril, in a name.” — A Wizard of Earthsea

In a non-fiction essay , Ursula Le Guin talks about the responsibility of choosing names. 

“To make up a name of a person or a place is to open the way to the world of languages the name belongs to. It’s a gate to Elsewhere.” – Ursula K Le Guin

J K Rowling’s Harry Potter series has so many interesting names, and etymologies once you get past the story, and actually delve into the details. The first time I realized Sirius & Remus names with respect to their alter-ego/animagus forms, I felt a jolt of pleasure.

Mythologies the world over have fantastic names for their characters. What is in a name then? Is it’s meaning important? Is there a specific magic to what we have been named? Is it linked to something greater or is it just a name?

The first sounds to which we respond uniquely.

What does your name mean to you? I’d love to know.

Free Play: Free to Play? Play to be Free? Just Play!

“Many animals learn by playing.”, my professor said, as she laid things out on the floor.

I nodded. I knew it. I have watched children play, I remember playing for many pleasurable hours myself. It is why I can be entranced watching squirrels play. I have always appreciated imaginative play.

What I did not realize is that I have forgotten how to do so myself.

I watched with a little awe and some glee as our professor set out things for free play. There were sticks, magnetic stickers, crochet scarves, yarn, finger puppets, lego blocks, kidney beans. Piles of things to play with, and I suddenly felt a sense of overwhelm. You see? I don’t remember when I played without an expected outcome. Years? Decades?

Didn’t I have to make something?

What do you mean – I can just do something that I like?

It was then that the activity really hit me. Unstructured play is a luxury – even for the children. When told to do anything, we do not know how to do that.

AI generated from article

Play morphs with age too

Thinking back, even play has morphed with time and age. Rules came into play – team games, board games, level-based games: they all tried to make their way into your life. But playing just so we could? The more adult we became, the less we did that. Even though, we tried our best to incorporate games into our lives, the nature of the games morphed. There were competitive games, skill-based games, team-based games. But just playing with the materials available to us?

How long since you just took some play-doh and squished it? Without making a fish or a heart out of it?

At the end of the 20 minute session, I realized that I was still quite confused. Did I play correctly? Our training to play it right meant we have forgotten what it is to play.

Did I feel happy? I genuinely do not know.

Did I feel satisfied? I am not sure.

Did I have a good time? Maybe – I meandered, but I was assured that was the right thing.

I came home, expecting to regale the husband and children and ask if they are willing to entertain free play. The son had gone for his running practice, the husband had gone for tennis, and came home miffed about a game they should have won but didn’t. And I stood there, running awfully late behind my dinner making schedule to be chatting about playing.

Is Play the Basis of Culture?

I remember writing about the recess being the basis of culture in an article over a decade ago. I relished that thought now. Why do we not have scheduled recesses in offices and work spots? A time when everybody is expected to be doing nothing?

I spent the next hour and a half cooking, cleaning, scrubbing and taking out the trash, with no energy left to think of playing. But I thought to myself. How wonderful it would be if household robots enabled us to play again. Just for the sake of it.

Wishful thinking I know. But I did know that of all the laments of adulthood, the fact that we no longer skip while walking, prance while doing the laundry, or twirl while making toast, or have free play  sessions with our pals is my biggest lament.

As I sank into bed, exhausted by my day, I reflected on the unstructured play session: Did I enjoy it? I still do not know. But I remember golden shining moments like little fireflies in a jar of moments when we played as children. Joyously, without agenda, and without expectations.

It is a happy talent to know how to play.

– Ralph Waldo Emerson

How do we relearn that art, and embrace it in our lives again?

Sunsets, Asanas & Aces: A Magical June 21st

Yesterday was a beautiful summer day – it was a culmination of 3 days that are all uniquely loved in the nourish-n-cherish household. Any guesses?

Father’s Day:

This year, father’s day coincided with the summer solstice, which means the loved father in the house got to play his tennis, lounge around with the kids in the pool, and enjoy a quiet evening while the sun was still out.  

Other Father’s Day posts: Fathers

International Yoga Day:

June 21st is also International Yoga Day. So I was genuinely thrilled to start the day with an early yoga class. My muscles were just waking up- sure. The limbs not yet nimble enough – yes. The breaths not yet the even meditative quality – of course. But in spite of that, or may be because of that, the yoga class felt amazing. For all these elements had somehow been made even better by the end of the class.

Buddha in Lotus?

 

Summer Solstice:

June 21st is the summer solstice. We love the summer solstice. The son, even as a young boy, would have his friends out all day playing dawn to dusk on the longest day of the year. It was something that strangely excited him. Osmosis of energy – is that a thing? But in time, we all look forward to seeing the sunrise and sunset on summer solstice too.

When it turns out to be a pleasant day temperature-wise, breeze-wise, clouds-wise, moons-and-planets-shimmering-wise, it turns into a magical day. We went swimming, lazed around watching the sunset, moonrise, and the beautiful cosmic planets shining near the moon. Jupiter, Venus and the moon truly look beautiful in the evening skies.

Summer Solstice related posts

How did you spend the summer solstice, father’s day & yoga day?

🥬🌿 Cabbage extravaganza 🥬🌿 & 🥬🌿 Coriander dhamaka 🥬🌿

The Buy-more-save-more theory in economics

Which one do you buy?

  • The $0.50 for 1 coriander bunch OR
  • The $1 for 3 coriander bunches?

There is a theory in game theory that Mark Whatzisname wrote about. The Paradox of Choice. Give people a choice of buying 3 cokes for a dollar, or 1 coke for 50 cents, and most people would buy 3 cokes.

The pater would have bought 15 cokes for $5.

He calls it Economics (Buy-more-save-more) . The rest of us call it a variety of names – well, this is a family-friendly blog, so let’s keep away from that shall we?

Anyway, what I am trying to say is that I could have bought 3 coriander bunches. I bought 1 coriander bunch for 50 cents. 

The economic upheavals of choice

In that one second interaction, in which I told the billing clerk – ‘It’s okay. I’ll just take this.”, it is astounding the number of things that went through my head.

🥬🌿 The father’s disappointed face. As mentioned, he is a big connoisseur of the buy-more-save-more theory. He is proud of it. He says that is the path to economic prosperity- so in that small act, was I rebelling against the pater? Delayed as far as rebellions go – who rebels after leaving teenage behind so long ago? The pimples a distant memory of turbulence on the face.

🥬🌿 The potential chutneys and thogayals the extra 2 bunches could have gotten me.

🥬🌿 I was already long in line. I had to leave the store in minutes – did I really need to hold up the line for 2 bunches of coriander that cost less than a dollar? Not to mention the half-rotting bunch already in the fridge. There is only so much coriander a nuclear family can consume.

Now, there are people who will come and tell you not to let things like occupy your mind for longer than its worth. I ask you. Who is to tell my brain this?

Paternal disappointment is a hard thing to swallow. I saw the pater’s face across all the decades, across the churning oceans, and across the continents on Earth crumple in disappointment. And I felt a stab of guilt. I almost gave in and went back to running across the aisles of the grocery store. Luckily I had places to be.

🥬🌿 Cabbage-o-phobia from Cabbage Extravaganzas 🥬🌿

I called the parents that evening, and was greeted with the mother’s characteristic shriek. “Your father has bought a large cabbage again! What am I do with 3 large cabbages for a family of 4?”

I shelved the coriander problem to attend to the more urgent cabbage problem, and asked the pater what he was thinking. Did he not know there were two large cabbages at home already – given that he had bought them himself the previous day?

“Yes kondhai (child) – but they were on sale. Yesterday, it was a buy-one-get-one cabbage sale. Today was a cabbage extravaganza.” He said looking befuddled as to how his sound economics was landing him in trouble again.

“There are so many cabbage dishes – you can make cabbage curry, cabbage kootu.” Then, he looked lost again – his cabbage repertoire seems to have given out at this point, and he looked to me for help. I laughed, and gave the mother ways to hide a cabbage in cooking – “You can boil it, and mash it for pav bhaji, sneak some into soup, without everyone developing a cabbage-o-phobia.”

Note to reader: There  is a phobia of cabbages that falls under the Lachanophobia bucket, also known as  Brassicaphobia.

“Do you know what I sent him to buy? Ladies finger (okra). The child has been asking for vendakkai (okra in Tamil)  curry – so I sent him to buy just that since he already went grocery shopping yesterday. He came back without vendakkai and a large cabbage the size of his head instead!” She said.

Cabbage extravaganza & Coriander dhamaka indeed!

I laughed, and felt this was a good point in the story to lord my superior decision making skills with the coriander bunches.

Really, after all these decades on this planet as a daughter to these two, I have learnt nothing I tell you.

The moment I said it, the father moaned. “You left free coriander on the table? Have I taught you nothing?”

The mother who was shrieking about cabbages not even half a minute ago, turned on me with equal disappointment, “You could have made coriander pickle and stored them for over a month! “

“Yes – why don’t you call me after you are done pickling the cabbages?!” I said smartly, and put the phone down. Grocery stores really don’t realize their social responsibilities, the time and effort their deals cost us. Indo-US relations

Cabbage extravaganza & Coriander dhamaka indeed!

Buddha & The Doves in Love

Where miniature buddhas take a deep breath

It was one of those quiet week-end mornings. I was cooking. I had not yet switched on any music. Just cooking.

I glanced out of the bay window in my kitchen for a moment, and couldn’t help smiling.  The buddha statue in the backyard is always a serene sight for those wishing for a quiet moment. It is doubly so in spring and early summer. The little statue is surrounded by sweet smelling star jasmine, making it look like a spot where miniature buddhas take a deep breath. 

That particular morning – there were two doves feeding each other. Probably fruit from the trees nearby. It was the most heart warming sight. 

Do we notice the quiet moments only in contrast to something else?

Usually, when I notice moments like this, it is in contrast to the busy things going on in my life just then. I’ve always wondered whether I appreciate moments like these because of the contrast. But this time, it was different. I had a slow morning. I got up in a leisurely manner with neither alarm nor sunrise giving me the slightest nudge. I was feeling well rested, and savored my coffee as I pottered around the kitchen prepping for the cooking. 

The birds were having an equally relaxed loving morning by the looks of it. It did not even occur to me to get my phone and take a picture till they had started to flit away from each other. 

I remembered a passage from one of Miss Read’s books, Village Diary by Miss Read ,  in which she noticed the starlings as she was going about her domestic tasks.

The Secret To Blooming Like a Flower

Quote:

As I ironed, I amused myself by watching a starling at the edge of the garden bed. He was busy detaching the petals from an anemone…

This short scene, I thought as I pressed handkerchiefs, is typical of the richness that surrounds the country dweller and which contributes to his well-being. As he works, he sees about him other ways of life being pursued at their tempo – not only animal life, but that of crops and trees, of flowers and insects – all set within the greater cycle of the four seasons. It has a therapeutic value, this awareness of myriad forms and the varied pace of other lives.

Doves in Love

The sweet interlude of the doves in love done with, I started cooking. The pace and labor of human food preparation is always so much more frenzied and complicated.

I glanced at the Buddha statue nestling amidst the star jasmines, and found his sweet contented smile still in place, like he remembered the doves playing around him that morning.

🫐 It’s a 🫐 Plum 🫐 Life! 🫐

🫐 It’s Plum Season 🫐

I’ve written about the Joys of Jam Making.  I do love the fruitful camaraderie from plum season.

I waved at the Fed Ex truck driver as he turned into our street. The son said, urgency dripping in his voice, “Quick ma! Now you’ve established contact – you can give him some plums!”

I stared at him.

A beat.

Then. I started laughing.

The wag!

I have been accosting all those who come home with delicious plums, but this felt a bit much. Plum season in our neighborhood arrives with a splash. Suddenly, there are dozens of plums plopping all over the backyard. Ripe, tasty, beautiful plums.

🫐 Plums in a Splash 🫐

I cannot help missing the mater. If she were here, she would be making plum jams, plum chutneys, plum pickles, plum juice, plum rasam till we all heartily felt sick of plums. I myself have been going in and picking up plums by the dozen and bringing them in to share with friends. I can barely understand how quickly the bare tree, bloomed into the prettiest blossoms, and gave in to the light green beautiful leaves before sagging with fruits at every point.

It is a miracle, and yet, every year, I am mesmerized.

One day, I felt three plums hit me from the topmost branch. I was picking those that had fallen, and then realized that these three could have been the handiwork of squirrels. I looked up at them beseechingly. What was the point of all that exciting running around and chasing each other on fences if they weren’t helping out with the plums? As if responding to me, one cheekily stopped and held my stare, as if to say, “I have had my fill. A fella has got to jump and run!”

🫐 Did You Know? 🫐

Fruits arriving in bounty are a blessing. The children, despite my best retreats, continue to resist the lure of fruits. Every year I start it up – each time with a different taste-bud related tip. “Did you know? Your taste buds change over time?”

“Did you know having a fiber-rich helping of fruits helps your gut bacteria?”

“Did you know fruits help make you happier because the gut bacteria love digesting them?”

“Did you know this?”

Or

“Did you know that?”

To which, I also receive a plummy reply, “Did you know we don’t like plums?”

What I did not know until recently, is that not all plums dried become prunes. Of course I had a gooey rotting mess before I learnt that particular fact, but apparently, only a certain variety of European plums can be dried to be preserved as prunes. Oh well.

If I could send some plummy goodness via the internet, I would. But as it is, somethings still require physical proximity. But if you are in the vicinity, please stop by. We’ll have a plum time!

Moon, plum blossoms, this, that, and the day goes

Kobayashi Issa