little things

it's a Monday morning and here I sit in my big comfy t-shirt and shorts. it's rained...and rained....and rained...and then it rained some more....and then it rained again. but right now, in this very moment...the sun is out. it seems a little thing, that fact. but it makes me feel good. as I've aged it seems little things have that effect on me.
things like fresh vegetables in summer. when I was growing up we tilled and planted and weeded and picked and snapped and shucked and shelled and froze and canned...and I thought it was cruel and unusual punishment for a kid to spend their summer doing those things. but now I find myself encouraging my daughter to do the same with my grandchildren. why? because it makes memories. because it's important to teach them how to do for themselves. because they need to know where their food comes from....and it isn't from a can on a grocery store shelf. they need to know who the farmer is and what he does. it seems like such a little thing to teach them, but it isn't just a little thing. it's a huge thing. when I was growing up if someone had told me how enjoyable I would find it, somewhere down the road, to just sit and snap beans I would've told them they were crazy.  or that shucking and silking corn wasn't as difficult as it seemed...although I did especially detest that particular job....I would've stood aghast.
little things.
bubbling on the stove right now is a pot of fresh green beans, just snapped, with a nice little bed of red new potatoes nestled in the middle. such fresh little potatoes that when they're washed the skin peels right off. and being from the south there is, of course, the obligatory piece of side meat on top. that's just how it is. mmm-mmmm.
 little things.
waiting in the drainer are six ears of corn, just shucked and silked. and on the counter are four big yellow squash waiting to be scrubbed, right beside stems of fresh oregano I grew and cut. it's drying, to be stored for use later.  little things. like the smell of it cooking....the sound of it bubbling on the stove...or that first bite. like popping a cherry tomato into your mouth right from the vine. mmm-mmmm yes.
little things. thank heaven for little things.