Last Wednesday a week ago, M was off (not her usual day). We went up Peaceable Hill Road to The Tomato Man, an elder geezer (and we have no idea what "elder" means anymore) who grows his own and has a small, honor system stand whereby folks can drive up and visit the day's offering. M was making some caponata (could not find his specific recipe on line). 'Twas splendid eating.
At any rate, we stood, oohing and aahing over the tomato choices, just gushing. And then we burst out laughing over ourselves, remembering our much younger persons having carried on about much more cultural or carnal objects de joie. Time and friendship do roll on and this was certainly not a scene we might have foreseen.
How could I resist the words, "good for something" as that is one of the current constant questions of my current existence. What am I good for? Good at?
|The bowl on the left is for the compost, or would be if we had one.|
Don't fret; I am not depressed nor spinning not tossing and turning unduly in the night. I am feeling better than I have in many months, getting lots of cooking and reading done, and even some organization, cleaning, and actual work. But just asking ... if I am good for something(s) what is/are it /they so that I can get back to a financially productive life.
And what something is good for me?