Hang on, little tomato

Portland’s pretty cool for a lot of reasons. One of which is that people grow produce in their yards. Apricot trees, walnut trees, pear trees. There are several other unidentified fruit trees in the neighborhood which are cause for great speculation for Cahen and I on our walks.

But that’s just the start. There’s berry vines, squash, cucumber, spices – even corn.

The neighborhood is on the honor system. With the fruit trees and berries, it seems ok to take a little, as long as you’re leaving plenty. The veggies seem off-limits (unless there’s a sign encouraging it). Even the ones growing in front of our apartment complex.

One of our neighbors has a pretty healthy tomato vine in front of the building. It’s got 7 or 8 fruit on it right now. Most of them are still green, one of them is almost overripe.

I want to pick it. So bad. I know it’s wrong, so I fight the urge. But, the damn thing’s been hanging out there, glimmering in the sunshine, it’s juicy goodness on display, for almost a week now.

Should I post a sign in the common area: “Please pick your tomato, it’s taunting me”?

Should I pick it?

They better not let it go bad.

Or the rest of them are fair game.

Feeling free

Today feels like the day to restart my journal. I’ve been thinking about it for a while. But there hadn’t been much I thought merited recording.

I finished The Favourite Game by Leonard Cohen today. It is beautiful, honest. His words carve images in stone, but as delicately as a falling leaf creates a ripple in a quiet stream. I’m not normally someone who corners pages in a book, but couldn’t help myself. I didn’t want to break to find a post-it (which I normally have handy, but didn’t because of the move) and I needed to have quick access to some of the text.

“Lead me away from safety.”

Of all the powerful notions he writes, this is the one that sings to me today.

I love living in Portland. We have a small but promising group of friends. There’s more to discover than we’ll ever have time – in the city and in the surrounding forests and mountains. And, the food – oh the food. But what I love most is how alive I feel being free from the things I thought I needed – a career, a house, a plasma tv, and on and on.

My mind and my heart are reopening. My creativity is blossoming. My senses are reawakening.

(Thanks to Jon Bloom for recommending the book.)