Carrot Revelation

In a small Spanish village two hours north of Barcelona, a small theater decided to take on the big economic crisis in its own small way. They called it the "carrot rebellion".

In rebuke of the government's new tax increase for theater tickets (amongst the many tax increases) which raised the tax from 8% to 21%, this theater decided to sell carrots in lieu of tickets. Carrots, considered a staple item, are only taxed at 4%.

Imagine a sight of people, each holding a carrot, lined up to see the show, casting a hopeful light on the future economy? Now, it's true I have an affinity for carrots. They symbolize rooted values. They add raw color and shape. They give you good eyesight. What better ticket to see the world with? Some critics of the movement called it tax evasion. I call it clever and resourceful. Quim Marce, owner of the theater in Bescano, Spain, calls it a "way to survive". Bescano's theater's new motto is For the Health of Our Culture. The shows must go on!

Tickets can be purchased for 15 euros (17 USD) at the door.

And as another "carrot" aside, our friend and farmer, Frank, says, in response to all of the local town's new construction of farmlands, "They're sure as hell not growing carrots and beets"!

We need carrots, my friends. Purchase yours now!

:)Bess

Amateurs Have Way More Fun!

I feel like a forever amateur in many areas: blogging, gardening, surfing, writing...however I kinda like it that way. There is something about the excitement of always having something to learn, and the anticipation of the unexpected. When one is a novice, there are fewer expectations, and so more often than not, I am thoroughly pleased and excited about the outcomes.

Lets take surfing for example. Michael signed me up for a surfing competition/fundraiser a few weeks ago. My initial reaction was panic, followed by a reluctant smile and brave face. I couldn't wear the cool t-shirt if I didn't participate. He assured me it was casual and fun.  I wasn't convinced. I have never surfed with many people at once, competing for a wave. I could only imagine the surfing videos I've seen and I couldn't imagine myself in it. The day came, and the forecast was in my favor...no waves! Instead we would paddle out to a buoy and back...that I could do confidently. Many heats were before mine, and as the winds picked up, so did my chances of having to catch a wave..uugghh, except that I was starting to get into the enthusiasm of the event. I also had to be a positive role model for Meg...she was watching and envisioning herself on that board next year. I would have gladly given her my spot, but she wasn't ready yet. The atmosphere was casual and fun as Michael promised. The vintage boards were cool to see, we were sitting amongst the awesome dunes of Cahoon Hollow, and the water was warm.

It was time for my heat, and it was certain that I would now have a chance to catch a wave alongside fifteen other women. My nerves now calmed by the sea and man I love, I ran into the water carrying the twelve foot vintage board, and paddled...this was fun. Around the buoy, and ahead of the others, I was feeling confident...now I just had to catch a wave...and catch one I did...yay! Then I landed on my rump of which the Cape Cod Times caught a perfect picture of and put it on the front page of the next day's paper. I wish I was the cool girl with the panoramic picture heading the paper, but, well, that's for the experts.

The garden is another area which gives me great amateur pleasure. My Carrot Friends poem says "A carrot is hard to grow/" All summer we have been watching and waiting for ours to grow. Last summer we grew them with minimal success...most of them looked like full-figured minature doll legs. This year we had higher hopes. We had pulled a few finger-width and length-sized ones, but they weren't quite ready. Today, we dug with our fingers around the circumference of our largest carrot to date...it .was a real-sized carrot, almost two inches in diameter. We were ecstatic.  "Should we? Pull it?" Yes, it couldn't possibly get much bigger. We gathered all its ferny stems for a firm hold, gave it a little apprehensive yank to loosen the soil, and pulled. Out it came, with a swift release, because it only had one inch to reveal. It was actually shorter in height than it was in diameter. It was a stubby stump of a carrot with two straggly roots. We had been duped..The wider a carrot yields no greater a carrot. Our theory to wait until a carrot grows round to an impressive size before picking it fell literally, and figuratively short.

 Our grape arbor last year provided me material for another poem, told in prose form, about our encounter with Black Rot. This year, we have been watching dutifully, hoping not to make the same mistakes. Two of the four vines have grown to reach the two Owen-lengths height with healthy leaves stretching across the driftwood ,but no jade marbles or any sign of grapes appeared. However, on the two lesser-achieved vines, merely a foot and a half tall with dry, curled leaves, we found the smallest cluster of purple shaded berries, one on each vine.  There was barely enough fruit to feed a babe, less than twenty itty-bitty purple pearls perched on stems, but still fruit, and oh, how sweet on the tongue they were. One was Pinot Noir, and the other Merlot.  What a delight to have no expectations, and to be seduced by a mere sip.

Have no expectations, and you shall find treasure. Have a great day! Bess

Carrot Friends

A carrot is hard to grow

my mom used to say,

but never said why.

Feathery greens first, it finds

courage deep in the earth,

pushes upwards, unveiling,

inch-by-inch, dirt-creased, orange flesh.

I have a few, of what I call, carrot friends.

Deep-rooted, wise, they add raw color.

Not like ground-cover,

that crowds, overrides, hides.

Hold a carrot.

Feel its earth, its air.

A carrot is hard to grow,

but I’m figuring it out,

in my garden,

all grown-up.

~from Garden Series I  

Life abounds with joy to sustain us.  We need to notice.  It’s in the moon that cuts a hole-punch in a black paper-sky.  It’s in the sea with its calling tide, and sand flats that cast a spell. It’s in the sky, blue with a sun, and in the sip of air-just-right. “Joy is not meant to be a crumb,” Mary Oliver writes, and Ralph Waldo Emerson says, “Scatter joy.”  It is with this spirit and it is my hope that this blog, Carrot Friends, will sow seeds of joy, like dandelion snow, land on shoulders, and tickle ears.  I wish for joy to echo within nature’s infinite nautilus. The world is filled with many sorrows and disappointments, but in keeping with life’s balance, there is an equal joy to be found.  Look and see, hear, smell, taste, and feel.

My husband Michael is a Renaissance man; a professor of law, retired judge, an elite athlete, father, son, brother, and a fine arts painter.  I am a therapist, mother, daughter, sister, a woman in love, and a poet, an emerging poet.  We found each other in this second half of our lives and now embrace Keats’s kin of truth, beauty, and love.  We collaborate and are thrilled when we can exhibit at local museums and galleries. It’s satisfying and fulfills our desire to spread joy.  Where there is art, there is hope.

Our most recent exhibit is titled Sustenance and is an expression of how we choose to live our lives finding joy in the everyday. A day well spent is one when we have been creative, active, and sensitive to the simple lines and forces of nature that surround us. We are grateful to have two places we call home.  One is near the sea where we run along its shores, swim its waters, taste its salt.  The other is in proximity to one of our most literary inspirations, Thoreau’s Walden Pond. We smell simplicity when we run and swim there. We pride ourselves as amateur gardeners and excite in the unexpected trials and tribulations that occur with New England’s unpredictable seasons. Today, a day in mid-March, we hoped to turn the soil, only to wake to a pink sky turned gray turned white with a snow squall.  We love art museums, used bookstores, thrift shops, narrow side-streets, farms, oatmeal, fresh bread, and cappuccino.  We collect old records, art, and mid-century furniture.  We have a beautiful family and dear carrot friends.  

I will blog about simple, but extraordinary, things as the moon, the clouds, baking bread, Mom’s soup, the kids, or a sprout. It is easy to take such things for granted, but I try not to, because they sustain me. One of my favorite childhood books is Frederick, by Leo Lionni, about a field mouse who gathers words and colors while the others gather nuts and berries. They think he is foolish, but when all the berries and nuts are gone, Frederick recites the colors of the sky, sun, and grass to get them through the remaining cold days of winter.  It’s an endearing story.  I will share my poetry and Michael’s art and other inspirations such as a new recipe, books, a creative product, or genuinely good news. Do you ever wonder why we don’t have a channel broadcasting life’s good news? 

If you choose to follow this blog, please pardon the simple site.  I am not only an amateur gardener, and poet, but blogger as well.  I have few skills in the ways of a computer but I know that technology can be a useful tool for connecting like-minds. Feel free to share your inspirations and insight.

Welcome to Carrot Friends!  Rich in Vitamin A and beta carotene, carrots heal and help us grow. The world is a better place with lots of carrots.