The History of the Squash
How to begin to tell you about the squash? Or all the other loveliness growing in the little piece of land between Mark’s house and mine? Every couple of months, Mark gets out the weed-whacker and beats back the wildness, but I don’t mind a bit when it’s unruly and full of all kinds of wildflowers that I’ve never seen before. I collect them in baby bouquets to give to Meryl. I arrange them in tiny vases for my little altars everywhere. I wrap them in bright tissue paper and tie them up in the expensive ribbon I bought in New York–these lovely flowers, names unknown.
Mark admires my bouquets, like the kindest friend. He delights in my delight in little things. He sets my flowers on the dining room table and then once in a while goes out back and makes bouquets of his own.
In the summer, Mark decided to plant squash in that little bit of wild earth between his house and mine. I don’t remember if he cleared it first or just started planting, but I do remember feeling honored and loved. Mark knows that something as simple as a squash can make me so happy. He understands that I find real live produce, positively thrilling.
And that when he makes squash in a skillet, toasty and warm on the stove, I smile.
All this kindness freely available to me, I find it odd that Mark and Meryl do not have an entourage. I swear they are the world’s best kept secret. For this reason, I will not be surprised if I knock on the door one day, and no one ever answers again. “What happened to Mark and Meryl?” I’ll ask, and the neighbors will look back at me, exasperated. “What are you talking about?” they’ll say. “No one’s lived in that house for twenty years!”
So to you, my friends, and for Mark and Meryl, those angels who live next door, I present, with much ado, the harvesting of the squash.
October 10th, 2006 at 6:30 pm
I love your excited laughter!
Yay, you! Yay, squash! Yay, Mark!
October 11th, 2006 at 6:14 pm
Jen, They must feel very lucky to have you as a neighbor too. Thanks for sharing the harvest! How will you cook it?
October 19th, 2006 at 11:01 pm
[…] I know now from so many long talks at Mark’s dining room table, that these are the signs I need a break. A little soul care for the sake of mind and body. I think about Omi, and all of her wild spirit, and about Martina, her devoted daughter, insisting we order every delicious thing on the menu at the restaurant the night of the surgery. “This is the best disaster I’ve ever been to,” I said, biting into my wasabi pea encrusted salmon, and we all laughed. Something about Martina’s decadent instincts after the operation seemed just right to me at the time. There is weariness and worry and disaster, but there is also love and peace and joy. I remind myself of these things so many days later and send my dear self off to bed. […]
November 4th, 2006 at 7:29 pm
[…] I think about Mark and how he would breathe deeply and take in my disappointment and my hope for a new creative chapter, how he would let his soul float over the essence of what I am saying. I think about Meryl and her tea and her warm sweaters. Just conjuring up either one of them in my mind helps me think clearly. And then I remember. […]
November 6th, 2006 at 4:43 am
[…] The sheer perfection of surfing the web while crunching this yummy snack from one of my favorite stores A heartfelt email from my dear other The bliss of imagining a Christmas entirely from this catalog Trying to sleep, laughing in bed until three in the morning with one anonymous sister at an impromptu sister sleepover The idea of writing for this website My friend Grace coming by to discuss the meaning of everything while Dave cooked a delectable stew in the kitchen This woman and the way she longs to bring light and joy to the planet Discussing cartwheel theory with the amazing Madeleine Watching Carter alternately freeze and/or microwave things in order to honor his burst in brain development A huge fugitive bouquet of roses and lilies originally meant for Omi but sent here to save Nick from allergies This song on repeat and thinking about Mark’s birthday this darling story about Thai names Asking this question and having it answered almost immediately by one of my favorite people on the planet […]
February 15th, 2007 at 5:45 pm
[…] the sound of ridiculous, happy laughter coming from upstairs the way these pink and red gerbera daisies sit on my dining room table waiting to be worshipped my bravo pens the way Fatih (4) asks my opinion about his outfit before going to the school program fresh blueberries in winter the sound of my tiny tea kettle whistling in the kitchen brown paper packages tied up with string (or more realistically, priority mail on my front doorstep) seeing Aja eat raspberries for the first time Broadway musical soundtracks love stories brave, risky wild art simple line drawings the sound of someone picking out a song on the piano finding my children asleep snuggled in the same bed icicles my husband in jeans and layered t-shirt and button-up shirt deep chocolately browns Jackie’s Fatou sitting at my kitchen table, painting any phone call from any one of my three sisters cozy chenille blankets eating dinner every night with neighbors making up communes without all the silly rules the wisdom and good sense of Lourdes bowls full of buttercups Meryl’s tea and Mark’s smile Carter’s resilience and Madeleine’s compassion hand-addressed envelopes […]
February 27th, 2007 at 2:28 am
[…] I trudge next door through puddles of slush to Mark and Meryl’s house. Meryl wants Mark to sing me this old Hawaiian song about a girl in a grass skirt. He sings a few bars, knowing it will make me so happy to hear his voice while Meryl puts on the CD. “All day yesterday, I listened to this music while the snow was coming down,” Meryl says, yesterday’s bliss still shining in her eyes. “I told Mark in a year and a half when The Boy goes to college, we’ll go to Hawaii and everyday I’ll take a hula lesson in a grass skirt. Only, of course,” she says, turning to me in the funniest version of serious, “I’ll need to wear a shirt on top with long sleeves.” […]
March 27th, 2007 at 1:26 am
[…] a chatty Ethiopian cab driver, telling me his whole life story Dave so adorable and sleepy, laughing at how chatty and excited I am crawling exhausted into bed Madeleine’s sweet face come morning, commanding me to come downstairs and talk to her Carter crawling into my lap like a kitty-cat hours later, ready to rub noses Nick coming over with hot fresh coffee and the New York Times Mark bursting with joy to hear the soulful side of my stories Meryl sipping tea with me Fatou laughing–the way only Fatou can–wanting to hear the whole trip from start to finish, reminding me that underneath it all we are sisters of the heart […]
July 5th, 2007 at 8:46 pm
[…] Yesterday I wandered up the hill to Mark and Meryl’s to turn over the events of the last few days and rummage around for something yummy to eat. Meryl came out with some dark chocolate almond bark from Trader Joe’s and regular dark in case I wasn’t feeling up to nuts. Mark couldn’t wait to tell me about a six-piece set of table and chairs complete with umbrella that might be just right for the back patio. He and Meryl took turns telling me the story of seeing it at the Giant, thinking that I might like it. Plus there was the added perk of charging $100 on the new card that promised an airline voucher before the end of August if they made it to five hundred! […]
August 4th, 2007 at 10:18 pm
[…] A quiet night here at the Lemen household. Rarely are we all alone, just us–most days our little urban family floats in and out at all hours, reminding us we are known and loved. This weekend, only Mark and Amadeo remain–Meryl, Jess and Nick off on their respective adventures. […]
August 10th, 2007 at 12:52 pm
Very useful and informative blog. Recommended for all to see.
http://medsdrugs.blogspot.com/