Journal Excerpt – July 31, 2011

Sometimes the thought of a fresh lemon slice is all I need for peace.

Citrus scented joy in a single moment, prompted by the chatty voice of a woman at the grocery store…excited about how many lemons she did not need to buy because she all ready had enough, at home. Enough, all ready.

I stood in the grocery store fruit department like a ghost. All the fruit singing at me.

That single idea… that someone out there might be making fresh lemonade, made me relish in that imagined lemon slice. It turned me. I will never forget it.

Bright, cheerful, lemon. Glass pitcher and ice.

So, I bought one.

I took it home and sliced it up, set it next to the sink full of dirty dishes and looked at it while I washed and cooked. I smelled and licked it a couple of times. I was all lemon.

It has become the icon of my freedom.

Yellow. Sour. Sweet. Juicy. Available for squeezing. And enough.