I’m semi-convinced the Fountain of Youth is somewhere in my house. I came to this conclusion for two reasons:
1. My roommate and I are looking more radiant and youthful every day; and
2. These flowers:
The flowers were purchased on January 14th! And they still look good! If this isn’t a miracle, I don’t know what is.
However, if the Fountain of Youth IS located somewhere on my urban farm, it’s frozen. Unless it defies science. It’s cold at my house — -1 with a windchill of -13.
I was forced to shovel again today. It was bitterly cold, and my snot froze to my face, but daytime shoveling is much superior to nighttime shoveling. It’s just happier.
I attempted to channel a little pseudo Christmas spirit by listening to the Christmas podcast of NPR’s The Splendid Table while I shoveled. It worked. It was like hot cocoa for my ears. It also made me want hot cocoa. So, after tunneling my way out of my driveway, I traveled to work with an entire container of hot cocoa and a bag of dried figs. It was a lunch of champions.
My happiness has declined this afternoon and this evening. This decline is based on the fact that I’m out of figs. Somehow I thought the three bags I adopted from Trader Joe’s on Sunday would last longer. They didn’t.
If my “Fountain of Youth” theory is correct, I’m going to be around for a while. This means I’ll need MANY more figs.