We have been working quite a bit, sourcing new farms, taking trips to markets and oh! (hand over mouth)…cooking. Tonight we had dinner together and took a break. It was 7:22 when we finished. I had gone for an evening run and Jim had finished up some important cooking. We were both sweaty in our own right and ate carefully, quietly. I looked up at him and said, “what now”?. We are so used to working into the evening that I don’t think we have a normal reaction to Nothing to Do.
Soon after the plates were pushed to the side, a fantastic bottle of wine was opened and the Moleskin appeared…our way of boycotting technology and documenting who we are on paper… how we feel, what we think, how we taste, what we do, how we speak, what we taste, how we explain it, what we do with it, how we live, what we do with that and what happens when we have nothing to do. We created an upcoming menu, designed an event in the Hamptons; we worked and talked circles around each other until one of us had to come up for air and say, “do you want me to do the dishes?”. The dishes disappeared magically and we were lost in conversation. I don’t even know who washed them.
Two minutes later Jim ushered me outside…”smell this” and we took a partially wet seat on the concrete steps. It was briny, smoky, remnants of a cigar from nowhere wafted through the air. Our neighbor’s sweet old dog barked and we heard a fog horn in the distance. These days it comes and comes and goes, and nothing to do was