A few of my favorite things

I think of my favorite book to listen to come March and April each year.  A book that I welcome through my headphones as I run along muddy sidewalks, shaking the winter sludge from my blood.  A book that makes me abstain from the Peruvian asparagus all winter long in anticipation of the sweet green stalks popping up from frosted Pittsburgh ground in May.

I count asparagus.  I count strawberries.

I count the cream that covers the top half of my gallon of milk.  When did we villanize something so wonderful that it gave rise to such phrases as “Creme de la creme” and the “Cream of life”?

I count Little Friend’s daily karaoke sessions.  The monotone, voice-cracking rendition of “Haaaaaaaapy Birfdey EeeeeBeeee” and the sing-song clean up serenade, “Keen-Up, Keen-Up, Keen-up.”  I count Little Friend’s newest recitation repetoire: “Fiiiiive Mun-key jump bed.  One fall off and bump head.  Mama call doctor.  Doctor ‘No Mun-key jump bed!'”

I count even the fifteenth recitation of Little Bunny Foo-Foo’s campaign of field mouse carnage as he tears through the forest, even as I (and the fairy godmother) warn him for the fifteenth time to leave the poor defenseless mice alone.  “Gooooonnnnn!” chimes in Little Friend from beneath the dining room table, where the best rounds of Little Bunny Foo-Foo generally take place.

I count people who are genetically gifted with a bit of Gumby’s DNA and can roll their tongues into human straws.  I count people who taunt me because I cannot.

What I do not count: money, time, aging, success, keeping up with the Joneses.  So why do these things take up so much of my daily focus?  Today, I’m glad to spend my five minutes of mediation on strawberries, asparagus, Goons, and straw tongues.

More five minute meditations on favorite things can be found over at The Gypsy Mama.  If you too thrill with delayed gratification, pick up a copy of Animal Vegetable Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver and see if she doesn’t convince you to make your tastebuds wait for the first crisp nibble of a seasonal, locally-grown asparagus shoot.