Sunday, July 6, 2008

Tomatoes and Contentment

I don't often go back and read my old journal entries, but sometimes when I'm tired or lazy or in heat or just not wanting to write I find myself flipping the pages back to weeks or months gone by.

I try to always write first thing upon waking before the night visions are gone and the coffee has lifted the morning fog. Sometimes there are pleasant surprises to read like the bizarre dreams described that I now have absolutely no recollection of or the snippets of small moments in time that seemed insignificant but now seem particularly beautiful.

Sometimes there are not so pleasant surprises, like how trite and overemotional I often sound, or how silly the words are now that I've gained some time and perspective on whatever it was that I was struggling with.

Yesterday while sitting in the morning sun I was flipping through some of January's journal pages, letting the memories I had put away stream back in for awhile.

This past winter was unexpectedly difficult in many ways. The harsh weather coupled with the physical as well as mental isolation of the dark months were sometimes almost too much to bear.

I expressed this in pages and pages...and pages....and pages, sometimes writing the same thing over and over in some sort of strange compulsion. Reading the words made me wince and flinch and twitch and want to throw the whole thing in the river. But just as I was about to fling the notebook away in disgust, I turned the page and saw something different. Apparently on January 19 I had become so tired of my own overwrought angst that I had grabbed a marker and scrawled in large red letters,

"All I want this year is heirloom tomatoes and contentment."

That's it. Nothing more. I think I just wanted to stop the whining and sum things up so I could get on with it.

Tomatoes and contentment really doesn't seem like that tall of an order, but somehow they've both been eluding me. And so, it's taken me six months, but today I took matters into my own hands and at least tried to get on with it.

After a few hours with my hot pink rubber superhero boots and a spade,

I'm half-way to having heirloom tomatoes.

And after the manual labor, a sunny afternoon spent with a book and a homemade chocolate chip cookie at my own private swimming hole on the beautiful Bear River, contentment may not be as far off as it seems.


Tapperass said...

About that same time, I lamented that all I wanted this year were a recipe for good organic Bran Muffins, and that people start hating me.

Good Luck with the tomatoes.


mresquan said...

Kristabel,something tells me that you are ideally content is an evening with a spanking bench,a flogger,contents inside your coffee pot,and it's neighbor,followed by drinking limoncello and gazing at drag queens!!

Kym said...

Mmm, come Sept. you will have thick slices of juicy tomatoes. Add just a sprinkle of salt and contentment is in your mouth...

headwrapper said...

...writing the same thing over and over in some sort of strange compulsion. Reading the words made me wince and flinch and twitch

If your words can do that to you... then think what they might do to others. Do you think that everyone is content with a literary chocolate chip cookie? Some of us might deserve to be hit with something a little bit juicier. Maybe it's time to put somebody on the word bench and go about getting really really really really compulsive. Do unto others . . .

Anonymous said...

really really really

Kristabel said...


Did you ever get that muffin recipe? Cuz you'll have no luck with the second part. xo


You forgot the part about the ferris wheel.

Kristabel said...

Hey Kym,

You could be right, but I like 'em sprinkled with a little sugar.

Kristabel said...

I think most people do prefer a literary chocolate chip cookie, Reuben. Not everyone can have a taste for herb-flavored duct tape, you know. But thanks for the reminder...or should I say spanking? the hat.


Anonymous said...

Nothing better n a choclatechip cookie at the swimming hole following some ducttape flavored herb LOL... GLad yuo like the hat, its homegrown

rolling up some sticky silver shit,

Anonymous said...

And my wish for you......contentment mixed with those yummy tomatoes! Forever..........and ever.

Anonymous said...

All I want is a new pair of glasses.

Because at first glance your journal entry looked like "tomatoes and ointment."

Tapperass said...

"Because of Tomatoes, I now wear an Ointment???"

Not the way I remember hearing it.