I [heart] Trader Joe's, chapter 97

Getting out of the car this afternoon after a marathon of church (choir rehearsal, worship service, congregational meeting, worship committee meeting - almost 5 hours!), I had a really good idea for a blog post.

By the time I was upstairs, it was forgotten.

I haven't forgotten you, little blog!

So instead of whatever brilliant insight I was going to write, let me tell you about my currently favorite salad. Looking at the bowl, I realize that almost everything is from Trader Joe's... which has been a theme here on occasion, no?

a big bowl of baby spinach leaves
grape tomatoes, cut in half
3-4 whole canned (not marinated) artichoke hearts, quartered
handful of pine nuts, toasted
a good hunk of feta cheese, crumbled (I used a lot of this, about an ounce [?] because it's been around a while and it needs to be eaten up, but it looks like even more in this photo!)
Newman's Own light vinaigrette (the only non-TJ ingredient here)

Relish with delight and in good conscience.

emptying the ol' emailbox

A friend sent this to me around this time last year; I think I was too wrapped up in my personal loss at the time to appreciate it thoroughly, nor to share it (as it should be shared). So, a year late and a dollar short, I hope you enjoy it as much as I have:

The Turning Seasons

The pendulum swings, and swings back.
Every action has its equal and opposite reaction.
So we are born, and eventually we die.
We plant seeds in the spring, and rip out roots in the fall.
Killing and healing tread on each other's heels.
Buildings go up, and get torn down;
new buildings emerge from the ruins of the old.
The Phoenix rises from its own ashes.
You lose someone you love;
you bounce like a ping-pong ball
between tears and hysterical laughter.
If despair were forever, you couldn't carry on,
but you carry on because you know
despair will someday be displaced by dancing again.
You can't make love all the time;
sooner or later, you have to become friends.
You misplace your house keys; you find them.
You forget someone's name;
it comes back to you in the middle of the night.
You lose a job, and a new career opens up.
You spend the first half of your life gaining possessions,
and the second half giving them away.
The animated conversations of young lovers mature
into the comfortable silences of long familiarity.
Why should we expect a single state of mind,
a single snapshot of experience, to last indefinitely?
Does a pendulum stop at the end of its swing?
So war and peace, love and hate,
togetherness and aloneness,
inevitably cycle and recycle.
This is how God teaches us.
Life is full of resurrections.

(by Jim Taylor)

all the best to you and yours in 2010!