Being Present and some Berry Buttermilk Loaves
Usually I come back from overseas adventures a little sad.
Truth? I usually come back really sad. So deeply longing for the cobbled corners of Rome, the blistering heat of midday Marrakech, the kale-covered markets of San Francisco ...
But this time I'm not sad. In fact I'm far from sad. Maybe I'm realising just how good I have it in my green corner of the world. Maybe I've at last satisfactorily indulged my travel bug (I have itched travelled a whole lot these past four years). Maybe...
Truth? I think it might have something to do with the fact that these days, I am really devoted to being present. Living. In the moment. Life.
We have the tendency to plan ahead, don't we? And that planing and wishing and hoping can often detract from the beauty and importance of the now, can't it? Yes.
Oh, I still plan some - I'm working hard on my business and saving for a house, sure. But I am also earnestly focused on my desire to be present, to make my now...exceptional. Slowing down, savouring the little moments...after all, there is so much beauty in those little moments.
I'm certain that sounds sappy, you surely assume I've come back from San Francisco with flowers in my brain hair. I'll let Henry Miller finish this post. He had some big love for California, too. Surely he'd approve of the flowers in my hair...
"One's destination is never a place, but rather a new way of looking at things."
- Henry Miller, 1957, Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch.
Truth.
.....
How do these Berry Buttermilk Loaves fit into this post? They don't. Other than the fact that I was very present when making and eating them.
I made these lovelies before our trip, using frozen berries in place of fresh and making an array of different sized goodies (altering cooking time accordingly) from little muffins to these perfect, purple-studded loaves. They were so enjoyed, I felt it was high time I featured them on the blog. The recipe is by the Heidi Swanson of 101 Cookbooks (recipe link), so naturally they're wonderful and tender and subtly sweet.
Buttermilk is liquid love. Truth.