Oranges..

Oranges are one of those foods that are certainly best left to be enjoyed in private.

Despite their deliciousness, eating them when anyone else is in the room is, at best, hideously unattractive.

There is no ideal way to approach consuming an orange. Either you peel frantically at the fruit until its a mess of rine and pitful looking segments, each one a reminder that getting to the point of eating that orange has proved to be more work than its worth; or you (like me) choose to cut the orange into seemingly manageable quarters, each one to be enjoyed without the aggravation of 30 minutes of peeling for 2 minutes of eating.

Despite what would appear the simpler solution, of cutting the orange rather than peeling it, one is still faced with the awkward problem of eating those quarters. Rather than delicately enjoying each piece, no matter the method you choose to approach it, you always end up looking like ravenous dog attacking a piece of raw meat. Hunching over a plate, or napkin, while ripping at the edible bits and simultaneously trying to prevent the juice from running down your forearms and chin, is akin to some sort of primeval knawing at a hunk of meat in a feeding frenzy. Complete with the uncomfortably loud slurping and juicy-fruit-sounds that go with it.

All that being said, oranges are so delicious...in private.

image from http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/wordofmouth/2008/jun/02/week

Wish upon a shooting star....

Last night I saw 2 shooting stars, thanks to the perseid meteor shower happening up in space right now. I've only ever seen one once before and it was years ago.

While sitting outside, watching for meteors, I found myself thinking about all the instances we are told to "make a wish" and hope that it comes true. Birthday candles, 11:11 on the clock, shooting stars, eyelash on a finger tip, and I'm sure there are many more. In the rare instances when we do catch a glimpse of a shooting star, do we feel awestruck on some level? Is that why it becomes an opportunity to make a wish, because in our awestruck state we may hope that someone will here this wish and answer it for us? I think wonder and awe are quickly being replaced by scientific explanation and mathmatical rationality, and without some sense of wonder in our lives, we are slowly losing our creativity and hope.

So, when we find ourselves watching a meteor shower, with no fancy equipment to help, just standing in a field with our eyes on the night sky, we are quietly reminded of what it feels like to be amazed. That alone, is a wish coming true.