They say that it's best to sleep naked. Especially when you reach a certain age (ahem, yes, I'm there). Apparently, it forces your body to acclimatize and regulate your temperature better. I've also read, that it allows us to get in touch with our inner child - even better for our psyche, if we can fall asleep with a soft, cuddly teddy bear tucked under our arm.
This led me to think about growing older, and how the less I have, the less I need, yet the more discerning I am, and the more nit-picky I am about what comes into my life. People, things, critters and calories.
A recent bout with the ever-present-covid, left me with the loss of smell and taste. A happy side-effect for my waist line, but my morning coffee, once an anticipated cup of comfort and caffeine, became a sad, lukewarm cup of daily disappointment. Now, a few weeks later, I can smell and taste again, but nothing is the same. I'm fine with a bowl of mashed potatoes and a spoon for dinner (don't judge) and ice cream, once my food drug of choice, is still sitting in the freezer, neglected after a few scant spoonful's.
Not to be discouraged, and knowing I needed something healthy in my diet, I set my sights on the pomegranates that I had bought for decoration several weeks earlier. They always look so strange and beautiful (and I have fond memories of eating them seed by seed on the back step when I was a little girl) that I decided they would be my food adventure for the day. I've watched Jamie Oliver enough, that I know to cut them in half and give them a hard, firm whack with a wooden spoon; the jewel-like seeds will then tumble out into a wonderful, glistening array of ruby goodness. Well, that didn't work for me at all, and I didn't really enjoy hitting the pomegranate with a wooden spoon, so I moved on to Plan B.
I scooped out some of the seeds with a teaspoon, then squeezed it as hard as I could with my bare hands into a giant bowl. Note: I would recommend doing it in the kitchen sink, as it might splatter, and may stain your pajamas and your kitchen cupboards. Yes, it looks like a crime scene, and you might be embarrassingly fascinated by the scarlet red juice oozing all over your hands, but it'll be easy, and you'll end up with a yummy, very-good-for-you snack.
Have to say though, that I wouldn't recommend doing this while you're under the weather, as it did feel very complicated (and a tad overwhelming) the first time I did it in my covid pajamas, trying to follow the Jamie Oliver whacking a wooden spoon method. But, once you're feeling well again, it's a vitamin-filled, mini-adventure in your kitchen.
Pomegranates aside, the last few months have been a lesson in simplicity. Already stripped down to less, I find that the anticipation is often far more fun than the event itself, and I am finding a new delight in some of the most simplest of things. Gazing at the moon before I go to sleep brings me so much joy, and turning on the Christmas tree lights each morning fills me with excitement, as the colors dance against the window and the room comes to life.
As I get a wee bit older, I feel that there is so much more to love and discover. I'm grateful for each and every morning, I'm fascinated by the beauty of the moon each night, and every single pomegranate is a brand new adventure just waiting to happen!