Little Things

I’m alone for the next four days. Kids are at their dads’. Ty is in Hawaii enjoying a tropical storm. I’ve got tons of writing to do. I need to unplug my modem and get writing. Sometimes its hard to get that motivation going but once I’m writing, I’m happy. It’s just that first leap…

I saw Twilight last night with a couple girlfriends and the theater was mostly young girls. The girls screamed throughout the movie. I felt like I was watching footage from an Elvis concert with all the screaming, swooning fans. I just kept giggling at the screaming. I felt so old. And giggly.

A few days ago I pulled out my old orange juice juicer and have been making fresh squeezed orange juice every morning since for my son Ty and me (Jake’s not real big on oranges anymore due to a flu on Christmas two years ago). This morning I grabbed two valencia oranges and squeezed a big glass of juice for me and I was immediately filled with memories and emotions.  Happy. Good. Happy.

As a little girl growing up in Visalia, our orange trees were a big part of our life. We had three orange trees at our house, two navel and one valencia. Navels are good for peeling and eating.  Valencias are the juice oranges, thinner skinned and juicier. The navels would be ripe in winter, and the juice oranges in summer so there were always orange blossoms and bees and we’d try to catch bees in plastic bags and release them again without being stung.

Growing up we climbed the orange trees and picked the fruit off the tree without damaging the new small green oranges growing. I don’t think I appreciated the wonder of having so many fruit trees at our house (peach and apricot, sour cherry and pomegrante) until I grew up and didn’t have them anymore. There’s nothing like fruit just picked from a tree, and oranges have become extra special now that I live in the Pacific Northwest which is apple country but not good for citrus.

I don’t know if its the bright color, the translucent fruit, the sweet tart citrus flavor, but fresh squeezed orange juice seems like one of the most perfect things on earth. Just squeezing the juice this morning made me feel warm, safe, loved. It was such a little thing to do, and yet for a couple minutes I felt fat with happiness.

If only little things could always bring us so much joy.

If only we could remember that joy.

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