I just returned from the grocery store. My final count included, brats, buns for brats, eggplant, tomatoes, and peanut butter. Thrilling I know. My inspiration for said impromptu grocery raid was an age-old Wisconsin rite of passage. It is officially spring and almost 80 degrees and that means beer-boiled brats. Yes, sickening and strange as that might sound to some of you, it is truly an amazing experience.
The human condition requires marks in time. Time is so much greater than we can comprehend that we must ritualize it with celebration and often times food. For some it is a long evening in the garage with a cold beer, marking the return of warm weather. For others it is a long-awaited trip to "visit the boat" in it's winter home. For some it is a "girls weekend".
Well, the days of beautiful weather have again come, albeit a little cold, and as I sit here and look at the beautiful blossoms outside my upstairs office, I can't help but feel that time is passing a bit too quickly. Just last week, my husband and I got married. We spent the last week in Montreal and Quebec City and yet, but two days later, it feels like months ago. I suppose that is why we must always live in the moment. We must never hope for a better moment or a chance to relive something. Time passes too quickly and no amount of ritual will change that.