Friday, July 30, 2010

How Peaches Saved Me and Why I Love My Job

Slugging around all week at work,
slothing around, slow slow slow.
Friday Friday Friday.

Sliced across the middle of my index-finger-nail
with a chef's knife. Tender. Bone.

Melinda asked me this afternoon
if I would like a peach.
Sure.
I like peaches.

A moment later, a bowl of sliced fresh peaches
and Greek yogurt drizzled with agave syrup
appeared on the table in front of me
in the middle of a paint-tube hodgepodge.
In the middle of Friday!

(This was my reminder that life was good
and would always be good.)

le fin

6 comments:

  1. I have a friend who tends to serve fresh peaches for breakfast. She peels and slices them, and serves them in a huge bowl. Life doesn't get much better.

    Bisou, Cro.

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  2. I baked a nectarine tart yesterday and while slicing those deliciously juicy, SLIPPERY, ruby orbs, sliced the top of my left index finger. Synchronicity?

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  3. Jacqueline -- I can do without synchronicity that involves knives and fingers! That tart sounds marvelous.

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  4. there is joy to be found among the drudgery

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  5. Decent peaches, nay, even edible peaches, are few and far between in NYC. While in New Orleans though, a friend provided me with fresh, ripe peaches from Alabama, via a friend of hers. Greater friendship hath no woman than to share her ripe, Alabama gifted peaches.

    Love, C.

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  6. Reminders that life is good, delivered in bowls...not a peach, here, but a perfect ripe mango.

    ReplyDelete