I’ve been reading Ron Padgett’s poem, How to Be Perfect.1 It’s a long, satisfying poem/list of practical advice motivated by fear, hope and the unpredictabilities of life. Here’s a taste:
Don't stay angry about anything for more than a week, but don't forget what made you angry. Hold your anger out at arm's length and look at it, as if it were a glass ball. Then add it to your glass ball collection.
Be loyal.
Wear comfortable shoes.
Eat an orange every morning.
Be friendly. It will help make you happy.
Or this particularly timely paragraph -
Don't be afraid of anything beyond your control. Don't be afraid, for instance, that the building will collapse as you sleep, or that someone you love will suddenly drop dead.
We’re expecting a hurricane to swirl through this part of the world any minute. Hurricane Fiona came through this time last year, ripping up trees, lifting roofs off houses, collapsing power lines and flooding houses until some washed away. Today the air was thick and damp. The garden is the colour of a russet apple. Birch, climbing hydrangea and rose bushes were gnawed by Japanese beetles until all that’s left are brown, lacy leaves. It’s an ominous scene, ripe for disaster. But it’s beyond our control.
So instead of being afraid, I am inside, writing my own list of practical advice. I won’t call it How to Be Perfect; only Padgett, an 81 year-old man, can pull off that title. I’ll call my list: thoughts from high middle-age -
Put flowers in vases. Collect them from the ditch and shake off the ants.
When you’re near water, get in, every day. It will make the day better.
Brush the sand off your feet before you get into bed.
Smile while doing something scary like skiing fast. You’ll feel more in control.
Keep chocolate covered almonds in the car on long road trips.
Use a sleep timer when listening to audio books at night.
Go to bed with a tall glass of water.
Floss your teeth.
Look for something in three places before asking for help.
Read Claire Keegan’s short stories when you need a moving but quick read. She’s worthy of a read AND a listen.
Buy a mandoline (the kitchen tool, but the instrument would be nice as well). The kitchen mandoline will make food prep a satisfying, sleek event. I have this one. Watch your fingers.
The list continues with gems like -
Buy a good pillow.
Wash your face with soap you love.
Buy underwear that’s a size too big.
Back to the mandoline. A mandoline turns humble ingredients into edible slices of stained glass. A stick of celery becomes a fine sliver of iridescent chartreuse. Sad radishes from the bottom of the vegetable drawer slice into diaphanous spheres rimmed in magenta. A dense wedge of cabbage shaves into a airy pile of fluff, just like grated parmesan. Add seeds, carrot, sprouts, a quick dressing and just like that, you have coleslaw2. I ate it today with molasses brown beans picked up at the Earltown General Store after battening down the hatches on the Northumberland Strait. Beans and coleslaw are the perfect mix of sweet, cool, warm and crunchy. I crowned it all with the last nasturtium blossom in the garden.
The last line of my list/poem, taken from my Aunt Sandra, is the wisest of all -
All that we need is in this room.
Or garden. (Hopefully you already have a supply of storm chips.)
This is a simple coleslaw that can be elevated into ruby status with purple cabbage, a sprinkle of pomegranate seeds and a handful of radish sprouts. Or keep it simple with the usual hits. Makes enough for four servings.
1/2 head of cabbage, sliced or grated
2 carrots, thinly sliced - use a mandoline, a vegetable peeler or a box grater
2 sticks celery, thinly sliced (not traditional, but a nice touch)
2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
4 tablespoons mayonnaise
4 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cracked black pepper
To serve:
a few tablespoons of seeds - try sunflower, pumpkin, hemp or sesame
a handful of sprouts
an edible flower, just for fun
Toss grated vegetables together in a large bowl. Whisk vinegar, mayonnaise, sugar, salt and pepper together until smooth, then toss with the vegetables. Finish with seeds, sprouts and serve.
Thanks to Molly Wizenberg for introducing me to Ron Padgett. You can find Molly’s How to Be Perfect list here.
And thanks to Tessa for reminding me about this coleslaw first published in my cookbook, Vegetables! She served the ruby version at her wedding!
“Don't stay angry about anything for more than a week, but don't forget what made you angry. Hold your anger out at arm's length and look at it, as if it were a glass ball. Then add it to your glass ball collection.”
Is having a glass ball collection just a pretty way of saying holding grudges is totally okay? 😊
Oh Lindsay!
Firstly I hope you are safe in the face of the oncoming weather. Hang in there!
This post has been such a perfect read on so many levels. I immediately read the links and simply have to think about the 'Perfect' List. It's a bit like a personal Desiderata. I will do one and may have to post same, crediting you and Molly and Ron.
In respect of the mandoline, I have always wanted one as I love fine slicing - I think one can get so much closer to the flavour of veg when they are finely sliced. But I'm notoriously hopeless with sharp things and I bleed like a stuck pig. I wonder if I could wear one of those chain mail butcher's gloves?
A red cabbage sliced tissue thin with radishes and palest green celery - and seeds and nuts. What's not to crave? Thank you as always.