Grapes

My week didn't start out so well.  Sunday, my child hit me in the head with an electric keyboard--right at that sweet spot between the ear and the temple.  Sunday night, my other child hit me in the face while I was leaning over to explain something to her fuss-face.  Monday afternoon I found out I didn't get a job for which I'd been asked to apply and had really been hoping to get.

Then came the grapes.

Tuesday morning I sat on my couch typing away with a steaming mug of coffee and a bowl of grapes.  On the weekly T-days, both of my children go to preschool.  So this Tuesday, my husband offered to take them so I could get some time to myself without having to put on makeup, do my hair, put on clothes, and drive 25 minutes each way.  So I sat on my previously pristine, postmodern couch in my minimally decorated, child-adjusted living room and breathed.

In.        Out.  In.          Out.

Each grape in my mouth was a burst of spirit.  The juices flowed over my tongue and left behind that sticky feeling, that reminder of how the good things and life leave a trail of reminders that we can choose to pay attention to, or ignore.

What is it about grapes?  Grapes appear as early as 5000 BC in Asia, and in hieroglyphics on Egyptian tombs (whfoods).  They appear in art.  We all know the pervasive subject of The Still Life.  This one is Still Life of Grapes, Plums and Apples, 17c., Jacob van Es.

Then there is the religious painting.  Here we see Traubenmadonna, 1525, by Lucas Cranach the Elder.  He was known for his realism and worked as a court painter in the Netherlands while also being a friendly with both Protestant Reformers and the Catholic Church (wikipedia).

And, grapes appear in architecture going back centuries.  This is a building in Prague's historic Malá Strana district, in the market place at the center of the town (wikipedia).
















So grapes have been around a while.  They are the sustenance of the wealthy in many media portrayals.  I think of Charles Laughton in Sign of the Cross, seen here not actually eating grapes, but giving that too-exhausted-from-being-in-power-to-do-anything-but-be-self-indulgent vibe. 

Do they still hold that flavor?  Do they make you feel self-indulgent?  Or has self-indulgence taken on a whole new meaning with all the chocolates and Internet searches and movies on demand we have at our fingertips?

I felt self-indulgent with my coffee and grapes in a silent living room, sunlight barely breaking through the backyard foliage.  But was it the grapes?  I think it was everything.  It was the peace after the storm.  It was the calm in my heart that replaced any bitterness.  It was the relief that comes from knowing what is (or what is not) next.

How do you indulge yourself?