It always feels as though the spring season is overly busy. I haven’t really done anything over the past few weeks that would serve as a valid excuse for not posting more often, but it feels as though I have been prevented from posting each time I decided it was time. Sometimes it feels like some outer force is calling for me to focus my energy elsewhere, and I must save my creativity for later. Sigh.
As I considered what to discuss in this post, I realized that there have been many occurrences since I last posted, both food-related and not. I had a wonderful Easter – as I hope you all did – I tried a few new bites around Rhode Island, and I witnessed the development of one of the most frightening tragedies that has happened in my world to date.
On Marathon Monday – yes, I live in Rhode Island, but I have lived in Boston, and to me, it has become Marathon Monday – I woke up, excited for my day off, and started to go about my usual routine. I normally tidy up, maybe do some yoga, have breakfast and watch some tv. This particular Monday was also a special occasion for me because a boloco just opened less than 5 miles from my house on Route 2 in Warwick. It seemed appropriate and comforting to go and get myself some lunch, come home and finish watching the Red Sox game. These activities, though it sounds silly, helped me feel as though I was still close enough to the city to enjoy such a beautiful day and such a great day of city-wide pride for Boston. Little did I know, this pleasant tribute that I felt I was paying to the city would be destroyed before I could finish my lunch, and I would spend the rest of the day on the couch, unable to move.
In the days that have passed, I have found every possible way to contribute to the healing of a city, a second home, that is less than an hour away from where I currently live. I have bought a ‘Boston Strong’ t-shirt from fellow students of Emerson College, I have visited boloco multiple times (food is my favorite form of appreciation), I have checked in with friends, family and classmates who were lockdown or relocated, I have felt intense love and devotion during each and every Bruins, Red Sox and Celtics game I have watched and I have done what we all must do: I have tried to free my mind and move forward.
In the wake of these types of tragedies, there are little things that bring me joy. Yesterday, I had dinner at Twin Oaks, a Cranston staple for any local, and did not get to have my first choice item, but spent the evening people-watching and laughing with my boyfriend. This afternoon, the warm weather invigorated my spirits and I took a trip to my favorite place: Trader Joe’s. There were no grocery items I “needed”, until I walked in. There is a certain something about a warm, sunny day that draws me to the market for fresh food. It adds to the fresh, happy feeling of the weather. Today, I was able to fill one of my larger Trader Joe’s bags for $16.81; this part of the shopping trip always feels so rewarding.
And so, tonight I will attend a yoga class and then throw together some quinoa I got at Trader Joe’s, with some shrimp and call it a day. I apologize that this post was not really centered on food, but I can promise that I will make a point to post more often in the coming weeks. I am in the midst of a slight job change and currently sitting in limbo on the Wait List for Emerson College‘s Creative Writing M.F.A. program. So, my fingers are crossed and my hopes are high that the next few months will be an improvement and a time of increased positivity.