On Friday we held our First Annual Remy family Anti-Consumer Day (a tradition inspired by Aunt Suz & Chris). A fun time had by all who attended and played board games late into the night! At one point we went around the table and each person told of something that they were grateful for that money couldn’t buy. A delightful list of things ensued, including friends, family, good jokes, community, time, air, and so forth. What did I say? That I am grateful for my memories.
So this afternoon I had a memory flashback. John came home from some errands and found me studying on the bed. From the doorway of the room he tossed a dark brown ball towards me. I grabbed it and realized that it was, quite literally, a hot potato–the particular type of yam roasted in its skin in front of Mitsuwa market during the winter months. My mind flashed back to about a year ago when it was a cold winter day in China. We were walking towards a tourist site and my hands were freezing. I saw a wizened old man on a street corner cooking something in an old barrel. As I walked past I looked down into his barrel and saw yams roasting on hot stones. I quickly reached into my pocket and pulled out an American dollar. I handed it to him and pointed at the yams. With tongs he pulled out one of the largest ones, wrapped it in a piece of old newspaper, then handed it to me. I held it like a treasure in my hands for about half an hour, then nibbled away at it as we were touring The Temple of Heaven. Pure comfort and warmth.
Now I am sitting at my kitchen table and similarly nibbling at the yam that John brought me today. A simple pleasure. Yum. :)