Not for Everyone
I once sent a co-worker to my blog. The next day she said, “Oh I read your blog. I didn’t get it”. I’m still laughing at her blunt honesty. My blog and probably me as well, are not for everyone. She was a nice woman but not someone I felt I had much in common with and that’s A-OK.
The image above is one I took last weekend at a darling coffee shop that my sister and I visited. We were struck (the pic does not do it justice) by the unusual burnished melon-colored tulips against the sea glass-colored jar holding them. It was the promise of spring in a small vase. When every other table in town, had greenery and berries, this one took a step beyond and it was very cheering to look at. My co-worker of yore may just not take notice of such things as small bouquets on cafe tables. I just don’t know…
I promised my daughter to prepare one of her favorite dishes and deliver it to her this week as she struggles to order her house and get her rest after having a new baby. The recipe is Chicken Dijonnaise and it is from one of my oldest and most cherished cookbooks, The Silver Palate. A favorite recipe, I often used it for company. No one refused the dish. Ever. But it doesn’t freeze well so it must be delivered piping hot and it will be. By the way, I plan on writing a blog post about The Silver Palate soon and what that book has done for my domestic soul. Meanwhile, I can’t help but think that perhaps my former co-worker didn’t revere the charms of hallowed family recipes. I just don’t know…
It’s remarkable to me how often I write about the seasons and weather on this blog and I’m not a farmer or a fisherman. I just like looking out windows. I even fell down the stairs last year because I was too busy looking out the window above my front door as I descended. I was watching spring come up the driveway. Author Gladys Tabor would forgive. She has always been a most comforting writer as she captures the varieties of New England weather so well. Her quote of hearing the geese fly overhead on their swan song trip south brings tears to my eyes. And I can’t even glance at a photo of my hometown Martha Mary Chapel bedecked in glistening snow, without welling up a little. I do believe that my old co-worker may have been immune to the metamorphic changes occurring outside a New England window. I just don’t know…
Since last weekend, I’ve been searching for a pale green bowl for the apricot tulips I have now spotted at the flower mart. I simply wouldn’t consummate those blooms yet – not until I find a vase with the same summer sea-glass transparency, at least by next week. Otherwise, I will succumb to the tulips for sure.
I’m guessing my nice-enough former co-worker wouldn’t get my way of thinking at all. And that’s OK…
10 Comments
Karen
Hey my lovely friend. I can’t believe I missed this post when it came out. It appeared in a different way in my inbox and I overlooked it for weeks. I had been thinking about you and the other Karen as we approach “pastel winter” and worried that you’d disappeared or put down your pen (figuratively). I love green glass and have a whole collection – but nothing like that chubby vase. I’m going out looking for one too for the upcoming salute to early spring. Thank you for cultivating an expectant, mindful appreciation for beauty, joy and happy living and sharing it with all of us. I totally get you and would invite you to my home here in Vancouver for tea if we could manage to learn how to teleport. I always feel uplifted and generally stirred up creatively after I read your words. I look forward to anything that you will write next. xo karen
JoanS
I too totally get it, and truly enjoy your blog. The Silver Palate Cookbook is a favorite too..
Thank you for sharing the inconsequences.
Susan
I get your blog and am so thankful for it. I keep your post “A Seventeen Summer” (5/4/16) bookmarked and re-read it once in a while. Takes me back to a more carefree time, and by the way if you want a subject to write about: being carefree. I tried explaining to someone that it didn’t necessarily mean being happy (although it often does) and she didn’t get it! Take care.
Robin
You have a lovely blog, so Lovely Inseconsequence is an appropriate name. I’d like to subscribe but the newsletter link isn’t working for me. Would you please subscribe my email?
Erina
Oh, yes. I “get” your blog; count me amongst the many kindred spirits who admire and love your blog for its supremely elegant writing. No other blogger has your gift of capturing the Past. I always look forward to your posts Donna; thank you for sharing with us!
Dana
Your blog is definitely for me- I get it!! Your writing has brought me years of joy and tranquility. I am eagerly awaiting your post on The Silver Palate as I am very intrigued. Hope your blog continues for a very long time!
Kathleen
I get you and your lovely little blog. It’s been too many years to count but I still feel our connection ❤️
Lori
I like your way of thinking …. ❤️
Tracy
Yeah, I just lost a few tears through smiles watching The Sound of Music.
Nuff said.
Karen N
Dear Donna, I understand exactly what you mean. Some people get tremendously excited over their home team being in the playoffs, other people get the same kind of thrill out of sunset-colored tulips in an aquamarine glass jar. It’s easy to find hordes of people screaming their hearts out in a stadium; it’s less common to find kindred spirits getting misty over a snow-kissed chapel. You take the time to direct our attention to the beauties of the everyday, the love song of domesticity, the dreamscape of yesterday and the often-frothy blisses of a feminine lifestyle. And for that, we who love your blog, are grateful.