Someone recently posted a picture of me from my high school years on Facebook. And I was reminded of the oddities about myself. What makes me different and unusual. How those oddities make up the person I am. Part of the history of me.
When I was a baby I had peach fuzz that eventually grew into a vibrant auburn head of hair. It stood out in every room, every landscape; like a Dr Pepper in a field of lemonade. To top it off I was speckled, like trout or hens. Freckles are a tough sell; it doesn't matter that they have nothing to do with Dodge Ball.
There is a puffiness about me face too; whether I drink vodka or not. Even when I was a buck twenty, my face was full and lacked definition.
When you are young these oddities cause you great emotional distress. Your chances of always being picked last, skipped over or run from all together are great and not exaggerated. And as you grow up that doesn't really change; but with age comes wisdom and now you understand it is the unfamiliar that people pick last, skip over and run from. Pied beauty can be scary.
My sort of, everydayish grocery store is Ingles. It is on my way home; they are renovating and I am always impressed with the choices the store offers. It is a hard working grocery store. What I am unimpressed with at Ingles is that no matter what produce I am purchasing, the check out girl always has to ask, "what is this?"
"What are these?"
" Beets."
"These are?"
"Shallotts"
"Umm, Squash?"
"No, Rutabaga."
It is how every checkout session goes. On a side note, I am worried about the diet of the Madison County teenager.
The ignorance of the checkout girl notwithstanding; the produce section is a lot like life.
Everyone b-lines it to the broccoli and asparagus; the blondes and brunets of the produce world; or the zucchini and yellow squash, more variations there of, with long legs. There are the potatoes; Idaho = the 'about average'; Sweet = the 'athletic and toned'; fingerlings = the 'athletic & toned foodie'. On to the lettuces; Iceberg = manufactured home, Roman = Brick; Mixed baby greens = Country Club living with Manicured Lawn.
You get the idea.
I suppose if I were produce I would be Rutabaga.
But if you choose it, and take the time to peel away at the tough exterior...
...that can accompany you through the familiar (pan seared pork) and unfamiliar (Sherry Dijon Cream Sauce)...
...happenings that happen in this life.
I will see you in the produce department...the question is, where?
When I was a baby I had peach fuzz that eventually grew into a vibrant auburn head of hair. It stood out in every room, every landscape; like a Dr Pepper in a field of lemonade. To top it off I was speckled, like trout or hens. Freckles are a tough sell; it doesn't matter that they have nothing to do with Dodge Ball.
There is a puffiness about me face too; whether I drink vodka or not. Even when I was a buck twenty, my face was full and lacked definition.
When you are young these oddities cause you great emotional distress. Your chances of always being picked last, skipped over or run from all together are great and not exaggerated. And as you grow up that doesn't really change; but with age comes wisdom and now you understand it is the unfamiliar that people pick last, skip over and run from. Pied beauty can be scary.
My sort of, everydayish grocery store is Ingles. It is on my way home; they are renovating and I am always impressed with the choices the store offers. It is a hard working grocery store. What I am unimpressed with at Ingles is that no matter what produce I am purchasing, the check out girl always has to ask, "what is this?"
"What are these?"
" Beets."
"These are?"
"Shallotts"
"Umm, Squash?"
"No, Rutabaga."
It is how every checkout session goes. On a side note, I am worried about the diet of the Madison County teenager.
The ignorance of the checkout girl notwithstanding; the produce section is a lot like life.
Everyone b-lines it to the broccoli and asparagus; the blondes and brunets of the produce world; or the zucchini and yellow squash, more variations there of, with long legs. There are the potatoes; Idaho = the 'about average'; Sweet = the 'athletic and toned'; fingerlings = the 'athletic & toned foodie'. On to the lettuces; Iceberg = manufactured home, Roman = Brick; Mixed baby greens = Country Club living with Manicured Lawn.
You get the idea.
I suppose if I were produce I would be Rutabaga.
It has strange coloring, an uncooperative shape and is unfamiliar.
But if you choose it, and take the time to peel away at the tough exterior...
...warm it till it softens a little, then add your own version of comfort (cream maybe), and joy (butter is always an option) ...
...you will end up with something unique, rich with texture, vibrant...
...that can accompany you through the familiar (pan seared pork) and unfamiliar (Sherry Dijon Cream Sauce)...
...happenings that happen in this life.
I will see you in the produce department...the question is, where?
You know your blogs almost always impress me. They inevitably make me think, or reminisce, or inspire me. But you always cause a reaction. This time it got me thinking that many of us face a challenge in our lives that others never contemplate or even consider. When I look at you, I see a vivacious, beautiful, intelligent and talented young lady with many attributes that invoke envy. You make it seem effortless the way you turn a phrase. Your culinary efforts sound and look scrumptious. And well there is the beauty you posses. Somebody posted that picture of you because you made quite an impression on them.
ReplyDeleteAnd yet... you have your own challenges that I was sadly oblivious to. It made me think and realize that no one should ever assume about another human being. They are frequently both more and less than they appear. I see myself as a glaring example of someone who is much more than I appear. My perception of you is, as I described above, of a person with obvious (to me) greatness. But even greatness can be overlooked or under-appreciated, by those who don't value those things that go beyond their definition of 'normal.'
I find you a unique treasure, not only because of your strengths but because they are far from pedestrian. Thank you for being a part of my world and for letting your wonderful light shine.