Small Delights

Artichokes, Runner Beans and Dane's Blood

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“A multitude of small delights constitute happiness”

is a quote usually attributed to the 19^th century French poet, essayist, translator and critic Charles Baudelaire. Which is ironic because he was hardly a walking advertisement for a happy life.

He was born in 1821 and when he was only nine years old, his father who was 34 years older than his mother, died. Baudelaire seems to have formed an unnatural attachment to his mother and was traumatised when she remarried the following year. As he grew up he frequently visited prostitutes contracting both gonorrhoea and syphilis, and he constantly ran up huge debts, squandering any money he earned from his writing. He took a mistress, attempted suicide, smoked opium and drank excessively, not necessarily in that order. He struggled constantly with poor health and pressing debts and eventually in 1866 he suffered a massive stroke which left him paralysed until his death the following year aged just 46. Despite being one of the major innovators in French literature he could hardly be thought of as happy.

But he wasn’t wrong, because if we can find joy and beauty in the simple small moments in life, although often transient or fleeting, they can be cumulative in their effect on our overall feeling of happiness and well-being. We are far more likely to find contentment in these small moments than in life’s grand gestures, wonderful though they may be. And let’s face it with the horrors that are happening around the world right now we all need as many joyful small moments as possible.

Don’t misunderstand, I’m not about to suggest the way to bliss is to light a scented candle and sip a healthy herbal tea, made in our favourite handcrafted mug while we stand on one leg watching the butterflies, as some influencers might suggest, delightful though that may sound (or not.) But it’s more about noticing those small micro pleasures that life has to offer. The phrase is not mine but was coined by Mark Diacono in his excellent weekly offering last Sunday, which immediately brought to mind the Baudelaire quote.

“Micro pleasures that a few years ago I might’ve missed, too happily lost to the task to want to haul myself out of writing’s deep well, but these are the moments that allow you to write better, live better and hopefully take a few steps towards being… content.” Mark Diacono

It probably has something to do with the glorious weather we have had for the past few days which means many more hours than usual spent outside, but this week has been punctuated by a host of micro pleasures, spending time outdoors being one of them.

Jerusalem artichokes making an appearance

While I’m mentioning Mark, some of you may recall me planting Jerusalem Artichokes early this year, purchased from his plant nursery Otter Farm Nursery . They had arrived Christmas week with the instructions to plant immediately. Well that was never going to happen, so I put them in a paper bag and popped them in the fridge hoping that would delay any deterioration. To be honest they didn’t look great when a couple of weeks later I eventually got around to putting them in the ground and I didn’t hold out much hope for them. But this week they started to push up little green shoots that made me disproportionately happy. All sorts of other seeds have started to germinate this week too and I keep having to peep into the cold frame as the new shoots push up out of the soil. “Ooh hello runner beans!” I’m easily pleased which I think makes a good companion to small pleasures.

And runner beans!

Also in his latest newsletter Mark mentioned ginger rosemary, a culinary rosemary with an underlying flavour of ginger. Who knew? Not me obviously but I have now placed my order and I can’t wait for it to arrive. Of course, things arriving in the post are very much in the small delights camp too. I’m especially keen to try this magic rosemary as an infusion syrup to make a Tom Collins cocktail. I’ll let you know how that one goes.

Look at the artwork on that cover… abundant indeed!

I risk sounding like a bit of a fan (I admit I am) but one of my Christmas presents this year was Mark’s book Abundance and during the sunny afternoons we have been experiencing this week, when I’m too tired to do any more digging I have sat in the sunshine and dipped in. It’s a combination of great writing, memoir and fabulous food, that originally was written as weekly instalments on Substack. It’s tempting to read it all in one go but I’m eking it out throughout the year, reading it seasonally week by week, this week accompanied by a curious and very vocal robin whose red breast resembles the rich terracotta of my recently planted pots. The garden is looking very shambolic but at this time of year most of my effort goes into the allotment. I’m trying to prepare a final bed ready for a crop of Japanese squash. It’s a delight to be outside, accompanied by the sounds of birds and insects. Although listening to the bees enjoying the dead nettles that are covered in little purple flowers laden with nectar I found myself reluctant to dig it up. Maybe I’ll let them enjoy it for a few days more.

Bolstered by heavy doses of steroids the dog seems to have regained some of his energy as his symptoms have eased. We know it will be short lived but for now he is living his best life which mostly seems to involve a lot of sausage. There are also daily walks, although shorter than usual so we’re not getting out across the fields and through the woods. I miss it, but on one morning this week I still heard eight different birds just around the village - a robin, blackbird, dunnock, thrush, wood pigeon, jackdaw, blue tit and corn bunting if my Merlin app is to be believed. One morning I was listening to a podcast rather than the birds, which was focussed on staying strong and healthy as we age. As I am rapidly approaching my 70^th year I was interested to hear what they had to say. Someone (not medically trained I might add) was extolling the virtues of walking backwards as a way to strengthen different muscles as well as improving our balance and stability. Apparently when we walk without using our eyes we need to have a more enhanced sense of the space we are moving through which is something called proprioception. Our proprioceptors are neurons embedded in our joints, muscles and limbs and they work with our senses to communicate with our brain so that when we walk they are constantly allowing us to negotiate different types of terrain and obstacles without falling over. But because walking backwards demands complex and unfamiliar movement it enhances these proprioceptive abilities.

I think most of us would feel pretty silly being seen walking backwards but I tend to walk the dog early in the morning when there’s no one else around so I thought I would give it a try, after all what’s the worst that could happen. Well, yes I know I could fall over (I have form) but fear not, that didn’t happen because the dog was having none of it. He slowed his pace as he eyed me suspiciously and then sat down and refused to budge until I turned around and walked normally. So much for that, but he did make me laugh. He’s seen me fall over before so maybe he was just protecting me, although I doubt it. He was more likely just confused. It doesn’t take much.

Not getting out to the fields has meant I have missed one of my favourite small pleasures and that is hearing my first skylark of the season but on Friday I ventured out to local heathland where the larks were in fine voice. I was joining a small group on Therfield Heath to spend a couple of hours drawing and painting en plein air. The reason for this particular destination was the appearance of Pasque flowers.

The Pasque flower, or Pulsatilla Vulgaris is incredibly rare in the UK and apparently can be found in only five sites around the country, one of them being our local heathland where it grows on just one side of a chalk escarpment. It is estimated there are up to 60,000 of these little purple and yellow flowers on this one site, making it one of the largest colonies of this plant anywhere. It flowers from late March through April, coinciding with Easter hence the name Pasque flower, although it is also known as Dane’s blood as it is said to spring from the blood of dead Vikings, a legend that has probably originated from the fact that it tends to grow in the undisturbed soil of ancient barrows. Sketches were made that are not really worth sharing, but I was happy just to have seen such a beautiful display of flowers.

The gardens at Longstowe Hall

This week, we also managed to visit a beautiful Open Garden where we saw newly hatched lambs, we ate an excellent lunch out at Cafe Cou Cou in Saffron Walden before seeing an exhibition at the Fry Gallery, maybe more on that another time, and last night we attended a brilliant demonstration showing us how he approaches drawing a landscape in pastels by Suffolk based artist Rod Bastable. Today it is a bit wet and windy so I’m inside but there’s mending to do and knitting to finish and if the rain stops I might pot on my tomato plants. Sometimes all we need to do is take the time to stop and notice the small pleasures.

Suffolk landscape in pastels by Rod Bastable

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