The stunning photo at the end is perfect. When we are downcast, it is difficult to think about looking up. Upcast, if you will. Look up! There might be a sign of hope. Or persimmons!
Just before reading this, I came across a quote in the New Yorker:
"Hope is the pillar that holds up the world," Pliny the Elder is supposed to have observed. "Hope is the dream of a waking [person]." I always read your pieces at least twice, always once out loud, even if only just to myself. Your words ring. Thanks.
Is it safe to assume, based on your word choices, that you've watched "Don't Look Up?" There is certainly a central theme going here, because this comment was uplifting in and of itself. Thank you, Stewart, for adding to the conversation.
Thank you. It is so easy to get discouraged precisely by the things you mention. I’m grateful for plants for showing the way of hope. Thank you for the uplift this morning.
It's curious, isn't it, how easily we humans gravitate toward despair? I need regular reminders to bring myself back to hopefulness, and I'm glad I was able to light a candle today. Thanks, Darrell.
Persimmons for you! And, persimmons for you! Everybody gets persimmons! At least, in the literary sense. Thanks for your steadfast support, Tom and Linda! Hope you're well.
Yes, Ann -- the photo came after the market event, with the new influx of fruit. Agree with the name change, but not sold on cake as the right choice. Maybe Persimmon Spoonbread? :) Long live persimmon life!
From one persimmon lover to another.... Thank you.. From one who appreciates the good life and laments in the sad life, thank you... Betsy, I was cruising through your words like a roller coaster enjoying its curves and hills and valleys... And there came the words toward the end, when you and Jim were on your way back from a visit.... " "we almost missed them..." You know.... The things that bring me the greatest joy are the things that I rush by and later realize that I just about missed them.. Hurray for your giant persimmons... For sweet bread and pudding... Hurray also for taking time to notice the fruit in front of our eyes... the smile of a tired face... The bark of a dog in the evening's distance...the pictures of memories of loved ones on dusty shelves..... Gosh, we pass these things all the time and we almost miss them.... But when we find them, like you said come it's "good enough.."
The stunning photo at the end is perfect. When we are downcast, it is difficult to think about looking up. Upcast, if you will. Look up! There might be a sign of hope. Or persimmons!
Just before reading this, I came across a quote in the New Yorker:
"Hope is the pillar that holds up the world," Pliny the Elder is supposed to have observed. "Hope is the dream of a waking [person]." I always read your pieces at least twice, always once out loud, even if only just to myself. Your words ring. Thanks.
Is it safe to assume, based on your word choices, that you've watched "Don't Look Up?" There is certainly a central theme going here, because this comment was uplifting in and of itself. Thank you, Stewart, for adding to the conversation.
Old Pot Pie still offers a persimmon harvest here and there. I’m calendaring a mini-harvest for you.❤️
My first persimmon love! Thanks, Charlie.
Thank you. It is so easy to get discouraged precisely by the things you mention. I’m grateful for plants for showing the way of hope. Thank you for the uplift this morning.
It's curious, isn't it, how easily we humans gravitate toward despair? I need regular reminders to bring myself back to hopefulness, and I'm glad I was able to light a candle today. Thanks, Darrell.
We are so very glad you found som persimmons! Thanks so much for telling us about them.
Love from Tom and Linda
Persimmons for you! And, persimmons for you! Everybody gets persimmons! At least, in the literary sense. Thanks for your steadfast support, Tom and Linda! Hope you're well.
OMG that photo!!!!
:) Thanks, Catherine.
If you’re looking for persimmons next fall we have a friend in Severna Park who’s tree is plentiful, with more than enough to share.
I will keep it in mind, Janet, although today's essay has generated a flurry of similar outreach. Maybe we'll have a giant persimmon share next fall!
Little did I know that your mkt gathering persimmon pudding was such a stretch. Or maybe those in the photo came after.
You revived persimmon life here at Pot Pie and for so many.
And, I have a suggestion……the pudding becomes a cake, a subtle change of name only to encourage more tasters.
Yes, Ann -- the photo came after the market event, with the new influx of fruit. Agree with the name change, but not sold on cake as the right choice. Maybe Persimmon Spoonbread? :) Long live persimmon life!
From one persimmon lover to another.... Thank you.. From one who appreciates the good life and laments in the sad life, thank you... Betsy, I was cruising through your words like a roller coaster enjoying its curves and hills and valleys... And there came the words toward the end, when you and Jim were on your way back from a visit.... " "we almost missed them..." You know.... The things that bring me the greatest joy are the things that I rush by and later realize that I just about missed them.. Hurray for your giant persimmons... For sweet bread and pudding... Hurray also for taking time to notice the fruit in front of our eyes... the smile of a tired face... The bark of a dog in the evening's distance...the pictures of memories of loved ones on dusty shelves..... Gosh, we pass these things all the time and we almost miss them.... But when we find them, like you said come it's "good enough.."
Noticing with gratitude...that seems to be what brings me back to my center time and again. And, it's so easy to miss so much. Thank you, Barry!
Enjoyed reading this essay of your reflections. And always enjoy your food-related posts!