Today is one of those days in my life where I feel blessed to be doing what I’m doing right now. How many people do you know get to divulge themselves on the things that they’re most passionate about? Not only do I get to listen to classical/opera music, I get to bake homemade vanilla bean and almond biscotti at the same time! And might I add, they were a total success in my opinion! Deliciousness!
Yes, my passion for food is what’s making me turn into a mondo pot belly, but I’m learning and discovering more about life these past months than I have in a very long time. I’m spending more time in the kitchen than ever, something I know that my grandma (you know who you are! 😉 ) would be glad to know. 🙂
I’m also discovering time and time again those little things that make me glad I’m here and not just because it allows me to be with the man I love, which is a HUGE plus. I get to discover those little stolen moments in the morning on my way to the weekly market–the cool calm and quiet of the neighborhood, the crispness in the air, the smell of the sweet morning dew, the sounds of the birds…
I love getting lost at the market–it’s all about the people and the great finds. When was the last time you actually met the person who’s mushrooms you’re buying at the store? Who can you ask about how to store them or what’s a great recipe to make with them? You can’t do that at the grocery store, you can only do that at the market.
Here’s some random pics I’ve taken lately, some of which are items I’ve bought at the market:
At the market I love the…
sights: tea towels, piles of hams, old wellies, flowers, pineapples, bags of oranges, unusual scarves, WW II memorabilia, breads, antiques, bric-a-brac
the smells: mushrooms from the mushroom guy, fresh bread, cheese, fish
the people: the jam guy, people who bring their dogs to wander through the stalls with them, the butcher trying to sell his best deals on pork cutlets, the lady you bought your jewelry from, the little old ladies who come to look at shoes or push their tartan shopping trollies around.
I love that you can buy things that are locally made and produced at great prices. I also love the fact that I can buy something like a piece of jewelry, that are very one of a kind and unique because they are often antiques, it makes me feel as if I can hold onto a piece of history and preserve it for future generations.
I know that I’ll be gutted when it comes time to leave here and I won’t be able to visit my beloved market anymore, but I try to push that from my mind. There are so many things about England that I will miss and have become accustomed to while living here, but again, I try to not think about how much I will eventually miss it all because my soul will ache.
I feel like I’m at that point in my life where everything is a giant puzzle and I’m trying my best to shift everything into place so that I can eventually be or do or have all that I’ve wanted in life. I think adding to my life’s confusion at the moment is my lack of a clear career path, because being an American, it’s all about the career path. When I went to school, aka university, I studied what I am passionate about–French. I didn’t choose to put myself through hours and years of language and literature because I thought it’d make me millions, but I did it because in the end, it made my soul happy. Somehow this passion of mine is supposed to translate itself into a stable and viable career that makes me a small fortune.
I don’t want to be one of those people who just works a string of jobs just because it’s all about staying afloat and making money. I want to work at a job that means something, that is in line with my passions in life, and I’m starting to wonder if a such thing exists for me–for both passion and career to align themselves together. Had I gone with a degree that was more clear cut, like education or chemistry, than perhaps my career path wouldn’t present itself as such a mystery. Who knows, maybe in 5 years time I’ll be having kids anyways and this whole career fulfillment issue won’t be such a problem or rather, a mystery.
I also feel like I’m one of those people who’s not very good at growing up…it’s awkward for me a lot of the time. What does being an adult actually mean? Yeah I can pay bills on time or set up a savings account, but does that actually make me an adult? Is it my age? Is it just some kind of feeling that you stumble upon as you go along? Doesn’t life come with an instruction manual? No? Oh….