The rhythm of the day

Each day has a rhythm, or a cadence, if you will. On my work days, and even on some days off, tasks clutter the hours and it's supper time before I can blink. These busy days are loosely ear-marked in a disorganized way, only when I catch a glimpse of the clock every few hours.

But there are slower days, filled by lingering over coffee, staying in pajamas for a bit longer, and few (or no) errands to fill my time. These days are marked with space to embrace the slowness. On these days, I keep time by breathing fresh air, savoring meals, and lingering with company or in solitude.

Today was a slow, measured day. A few pages of Mansfield Park accompanied my breakfast. I met a friend for coffee and a walk by the lake for a few hours. Beginning in the early afternoon, I started supper prep, because I was in the mood for a lengthy kitchen project. On the menu? Homemade meatballs* and mashed rutabaga/parsnips.** With a podcast in the background, I peeled and chopped vegetables, filled and whirled the food processor, and whisked together a homemade marinara. And that's all I did today. Maybe today wasn't an incredibly productive day, by the world's standards. But maybe I want to refine my definition of productive, especially on a slow day. I want to embrace the slowness, even if I sacrifice production to do so. Sometimes, less production means more delight.

And today was delightful (as were the meatballs, by the way).

*Recipes for the meatballs and mashed root vegetables are from the newer Danielle Walker's Against All Grain: Meals Made Simple cookbook (a birthday present!)

**While I've eaten rutabaga, I've never cooked with it or with parsnips. We loved them as a mashed dish—sort of like mashed potatoes, but less starchy.