Three Good Things and One Lingering Question Pondered on an Icy Day

1.

Homemade raisin scones shared with a friend.

2.

Spider silk strung in neatly stacked staple-size ice squares.

3.

Memories of hours spent with my Magic Designer. 

(Lingering question: Why can't I buy one now?)

What if money were no object?

"What would you do?" asks Alan Watts.

I would give my most prized and sentimental possessions to my family and most of the rest of my possessions to those who could use or want them.

I would buy a little plot of land near my family, in woods, near mountains and water. On it, I would build a tiny house with an adjoining tiny studio just like this one.

I would use a fast computer with all the right photography and publishing programs. I would use more flexible equipment, including different cameras for different purposes. I would share my tiny house with a cat or cats to keep me company. I would use my library card at a good library with Kindle books. I would live near a college campus where I could attend lectures and plays, concerts and classes. I would travel to places I already love and love the new ones I would visit. I would wear comfortable clothes all the time, and every night at home I would float in a big bathtub under stars.

I would read, and walk, and write, and complete my poetry MFA and take photography classes and workshops, and make pictures, and compose and construct handmade books.

I would spend time with people I love and with people who create things because they must.

I would drink tea and make scones.

I would wake without fear and fall asleep without anxiety.

And I would be happy.

Scone Lady of Sewanee

That's what some folks call me because I sell them each Saturday at the Farmer's Market.

Now the squirrels might now think of me the same way.

I tossed some scone crumbs for them today and delighted upon watching them chase each other around for the big bits. They have good taste. Now if only I could teach them to drink tea with pinkies uplifted.

Saturday Market

Every Saturday during the summer (except when it rains), I join others who sell homegrown vegetables or fruits or flowers and bake homemade goodies and sell my scones at the market. We set up on Highway 41A downtown, in an old railroad bed. (The train, when it ran, was affectionately called "the goat track." Behind the set-up spot starts the Mountain Goat Trail for walkers and bikers.)

The afternoon or night before, I make the scone dough and store it in the refrigerator. Late yesterday afternoon, I made four kinds: ginger, currant, cranberry-orange, and chocolate. Then I get up at 6 AM and bake, so that the scones are still warm when I take them to market.I have regular customers -- like Ann, who prefers Ginger; June, who mostly buys cranberry-orange; Tam, who bikes up to 40 miles a day and saves some carbs for me, who buys ginger and currant; and Bill and Susan, from New Orleans but owners of a summer house in Monteagle Assembly and whose younger daughter I taught at McGehee's, who always buy lots of any flavor. Some people don't buy scones, but always stop to chat, like Georgie and Lynne, who returned the terrific Fourth of July dog to the shelter. (Someone still needs to adopt him.) Sometimes I learn sad news at the market: today I heard that a colleague from The School of Letters has been diagnosed with a terminal disorder: corticobasal degeneration. Essentially, her brain is shutting down. Sometimes , we chat about a friend who is ill: Trink had a stroke earlier this week and is still in the hospital in Chattanooga. Sometimes we celebrate successes: Ann's daughter was here earlier and is out of her neck contraption from last year's surgery. In any case, the community is strong and supportive.Scone sales don't amount to much more than the cost of supplies, but I enjoy having a reason to get up early on the weekend, and I enjoy chatting with the folks who come to the market. They used to call me "the scone lady," but now most know me by name. I guess I have become a member of the community.

Greens from the Garden

Every Saturday morning I sell homemade scones at the local green market. This morning I sold thirty chocolate, cranberry/orange, and currant scones. Afterwards, I visited my friends F&F. Faye has been suffering for a month with a bulging disc, so I thought some fresh blueberry scones and a short visit might cheer her up. I was right. While we chatted, Francis picked fresh greens from his garden: lettuces, arugula, and basil.

Here's what I celebrate today: two dogs who belong to neighbors but have made their home at F&F's; sun-warm greens, sweet and bitter and aromatic, that make a symphony with black olives, red pepper, cucumber, feta cheese, carrot, ground pepper, and oil and vinegar; hummingbirds zapping each other at the feeder; and old friends.