Thoughtful Thursday

I think, in my humblest of opinions, that there is not enough loveliness in the world.

Strike that.

I think that there is not enough loveliness noticed in the world.

And what defines this fine quality?

Something that makes you smile, both inwardly and maybe a little outwardly. Something that makes you feel light and content and cognizant that you are in the presence of something very sweet and something very special. You feel all of your good qualities being drawn out by some magic magnetism, and you wish your experience could never ever end. You're a little wistful when it does.

I thank The Good Countess KR for ever having introduced me to the loveliness that is one Ms. Molly Wizenberg, author of the equally lovely foodie/life-y blog called Orangette.

Never mind about her lack of current work (said the BvonB, vaguely aware that this very phrase was strangely resonant...), I urge you to go have a gander at her archives. She explains that she's a little overwhelmed right now - she and her husband are in the midst of constructing a new Seattle restaurant. But if you start at the beginning (a very good place to start), and wend your way through, you'll soon find yourself smitten and infinitely patient at waiting for new posts.

She loves food. In a lovely way. This was very evident at the food workshop KR took me to where Molly and Brandon showed us the wonder and potential of eggs.

Yes, eggs.

Girl can rock the chicken ova like no one's bin-ness. Even reminiscing about the aioli she whipped up, I'm starting to get a little Pavlovian.

Now Molly has a book out - 'A Homemade Life - stories and recipes from my kitchen table'. KR so kindly gifted me a signed copy from the book reading she recently went to. While my first instinct was to tear through it at breakneck speed, I'm now parceling it out a chapter a day. I don't want it to end. I will be wistful when it is.

The dedication is to her late father - and while brief - speaks volumes:

"We know we are shining
Though we cannot see one another"

James Wright

This could not be any more perfect for the affection I feel for all of you.

Or more - you know*.



(*lovely)

Thoughtful Thursday

Not too long ago, mentally exhausted and virtually brain dead to think of anything original, I threw myself on the mercy of my readers to provide some inspiration.

And, thanks to the brain trust in my small slice of the blogosphere, I received some very good ideas.

Lest you think that I am ignoring these, today I will multi-task, and not only answer one question from the ever-lovely RiverPoet over at Poetic License, but I will - in usual Baroness fashion - embellish. Ever so slightly.

I was asked to talk about my summer reading list. While I kind of sketched out here what I had devoured and what was on deck, yet once again I have gone off-page. Such a rebel.

As I was grabbing the next book from the pile to take with us on a little 4th of July jaunt to Les Etat Unis avec le French exchange student Julien, I found Marlena De Blasi's "A Thousand Days in Tuscany" .

And feeling hungry as always, I was mesmerized by the title of the first chapter, "The Gorgeous Things They're Cooking Are Zucchini Blossoms". From that point onward, I was hooked (and grumbly in the tumbly) by this succulent account of the author's stopover in San Casciano dei Bagni.

When she's not talking about food (something she does very, very well), De Blasi's talking of the rhythm of life as a supplanted Tuscan, or about the relationship between her and her husband.

One of the most exquisite paragraphs I have ever read talks about getting into bed on the first night in their new home. Does this seem odd to you? Does it seem odd that I wanted to groan with pleasure at the description, weep for the beauty of the sentiment, and immediately read it to my husband, who would completely agree?

Read it for yourself:

"...How delicious it is to rest after such a day. To lay down blood and bones in a place, almost any place, where someone waits to hold what's young of you and what's old of you. What's just happened to you and that which has happened so long ago to you. All of you."

Ahh. How delicious, indeed.