We have returned to our house, but almost everything is either dusty, or packed and sealed in a brown box that looks just like the other brown boxes sitting next to it, or lodged in some cranny of the garage. Yet, Tyler and I were able to cook dinner last night, and we ate at the dining room table that we love. This morning as I was trying to organize a kitchen cabinet, I came across some dried black-eyed peas. Suddenly believing in the adage that there is no time like the present, I put them to soak for a few hours. Later, as I stood in the kitchen chopping onions, celery, and green peppers, I grew homesick for Texas - a feeling that began earlier that morning when I sent an email to my in-laws who now reside in the state where I more or less grew up.
Now, Mother, a staunch believer in eating black-eyed peas on New Year's Day, would never have cooked black-eyed peas the week before Christmas. However, I sensed her understanding, although she would probably be a bit suspicious of the addition of collard greens, at least until she tasted them. Yes, there will be cornbread tonight. Do I believe black-eyed peas bring good luck when eaten on New Year's Day? No, but I do believe traditions can give us a deep sense of connection. It really is not luck we seek but love, and sometimes we simply need to remember where our strength comes from.
I have no pictures of West Texas on my phone, but this picture taken at Mission San Miguel in 2015 seems to come close to the spirit of sensing a further horizon, regardless of whatever window we may be looking through at the moment.
