Treat
Treat: anything that affords particular pleasure or enjoyment (emphasis mine).
I like the word “particular” in this definition because treats, like pet peeves, are specific to one’s personality. Some people use the term treat to describe things that I would more readily assign to the “trick” bucket—mountain-climbing, shopping trips, dark chocolate—you know, ideas conceived of in deepest hellfire by the devil's most devious devotees. Then again, other people’s notions of treating themselves seem painfully limited. I don’t like to hear someone describing croutons, or diet drinks, or bathroom breaks as “treats” because two of those things should be a given (allergies permitting), and one of them is faux-healthy-garbage-water, but ultimately, this is a real “to each her own” situation, isn’t it?
For me, a treat is something accessible & affordable that, for whatever reason, seems luscious and lavish to the imbibing. When I was a little girl, my mother used to stop at Dairy Queen or Sonic on the way to my grandmother’s house, and we would split a pineapple shake together. Some have scoffed at this ritual because they have never had a pineapple shake and think they are too fancy for canned fruits. I am thankful that I had no sense at the time that it would be considered weird by some people because it is beautiful to share something that delights you with someone who delights you, full-stop. All too often, maternal attempts at sharing are met with contempt once children are effectively convinced that nothing cool has ever come from a mother.
Those pineapple shakes were a treat because they were cold on hot days because they were something to look forward to on a trip that was going to take longer than I wanted, and also because they indicated that I was in right (enough) relationship with the woman who made me. It is hard to be human. And sometimes we need just need a little deliverance in the form of distraction so we can keep on with all of the keeping on that is asked of us.
One of my personal favorite treats, and one that is always at the ready, is…
List-making.
I know that sounds painfully boring, But don’t worry, I’m not just talkin’ to-do lists! I’m talmbout all kinds of lists babeeeey, ratings and rankings, memories and aspirations, and yes, evidence of all that is done and, as yet, undone. So, this week, I thought I would offer a list () capturing some of the treats that most consistently help me make it through the sweating, and the waiting, and the relating that is required of me as a human now and forevermore.
Treat 1: Books (Obvs)
There is no better balm to a bruised or bleeding spirit than the promise of another world waiting at your fingertips. Books, unlike people, never get annoyed that you want more of them. Books, in fact, have no expectation of you whatsoever. You can be thirsty, dramatic, unfaithful, uninterested—they remain unmoved. They are portable and private, and predictable in their unpredictability. They are perhaps the best and most consistently salvific treat across the course of my life. Here are ten recent favorites, but I’ll warn you, I have a type. I like my books like I like my partners, beautiful, sad, and generally quiet. If that sounds good to you, treat yourself to one of the following sometime soon.
· We the Animals, Justin Torres
· On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, Ocean Vuong
· AugustTown, Kei Miller
· Friday Black, Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah
· Minor Feelings, Cathy Park Hong
· This Here Flesh, Cole Arthur Riley
· Braiding Sweetgrass, Robin Wall-Kimmerer
· We are the Babysitter’s Club, Marisa Crawford & Megan Milks
· Midnight Library, Matt Haig
Treat 2: EANABs (AKA, Lemonade-n-Such)
My friend Luci gave me the term EANABs, which stands for Equally Attractive Non-Alcoholic Beverages. Luci and her husband are hostesses with the mostessess and this means they are aware that some of us want something sweet, and, bubbly, and fancy sans spirits. I am not a true teetotaler, but I am teetototal adjacent. I maintain a grudge against alcohol for the people that it has taken from me and the versions of themselves that I have been left with instead when the bottle became more than a treat for them. It’s nice sometimes to have a drink that reminds us of more innocent times, a fruit-filled lemonade, a limeade, perhaps an Arnold Palmer or a Shirley Temple if a cool, confusing name is what does it for you. I also recommend carrying around a bottle of New Mexican Lavender Syrup so you get that “woman with a flask vibe” without the hassle of an all-time hangover. These are my EANAB recommendations offered to you. Take and drink.
Treat 3: Fashion (Freedom)
Speaking of vibes—consider treating yourself to whatever personal fashion statement you want to make this summer. When I was a girl, I used to explain to the adults in my life that I wanted to be a teacher, a writer, and a fashion designer. This seemed doable at the time, but it is looking like I will only get to the first two in this version of my life. That said, fashion has always been one place where I have refused to do the whole succumb to supremacy thing. There is no “right” jean for my body type. My skin tone is not a “season” that gets to narrate which colors I’m allowed to wear. I love mismatching and mayhem when it comes to putting outfits together. It’s a way to say, you may think I’m quaint, compliant, conquerable even, but here’s what you won’t do. You won’t tell me that I am too old for pigtails, or too brown to wear brown, or too curvaceous for a V-neck if a V-neck is the thing I want to wear. I get to choose what makes me feel alive, and you should do the same! I won’t give you a list of fashions to try because the whole point is you-do-you, but here is what I will suggest. Ask yourself the following questions.
· What do I wear that makes me feel the most like myself?
· What do I stop myself from wearing because some, almost certainly racist/sexist/classist/heterosexist/ableist/ageist individual or institutions says I shouldn’t?
· What do I want to do about it?
We all know that #restisresistance by now, but do you know how else we can fight back? How about #lovinmylusciouslewks ?
Treat 4: Swimming Holes/Springs
This year is set to be one of the top ten hottest on record. As of this writing we are at 28 consecutive days of 100+ temps in Waco, Texas. These are tough times for a lot of folks. I, myself, was born in August in Texas, so there is something about my introduction to the earth that makes me more enthusiastic about heat than others. Also, I live in a house with central air and spend less time laboring under the blistering sun than others, so there’s that. I have technically been baptized two times (like many terrified evangelicals). In truth, though, I have a baptism of sorts every time I take the plunge descending and re-emerging in Barton Springs. I think swimming holes are wildly underrated, especially those that are spring-fed. Shame on me if I ever take a spring-fed-pool for granted. I won’t shame you too, but maybe try finding the nearest spring pool to you ASAP.
Treat 5: Tacos
I know that over the course of this blog, I have already called “words” and a number of people the loves of my life, but Tacos are, at the very least, the lust of my life. My mother’s first adult friends as a young new wife were all Mexican women whose husbands worked construction with my father. They showed her how to make tortillas, tamales, enchiladas, and rice. I was an adult before I learned that some people call Camino “Cumin” or that a molcajete had another name in white circles (the “mortar” of mortar & pestle). I have tacos every year on my birthday. I have breakfast tacos every Saturday at the farmer’s market. Below are some of the best tacos, I’ve had, Fisher family gatherings notwithstanding:
· Breakfast: Sergios Waco, TX,
· Puffy: Vivo, Austin Texas,
· New Mexican: Andele’s Doghouse Las Cruces, New Mexico,
· Vegetarian: A version of these shredded mushroom carnitas
· Also ,every taco of every variety I ever had the summer I lived in Monterrey, Nuevo Leon.
Tacos are quick, inexpensive, and bespoke. They often involve avocado. If there is a better example of a treat on this planet, I have yet to be introduced. May this week be a taco week for you and yours.
Grab a book and a drink too,while you’re at it.
Then take a swim in the funkiest (or classiest, or edgiest, or silliest) swimsuit you can get.
Thank God for any sweetness you find amidst all the sorrow
and thank yourself for any sorrow you’ve already survived
one small joy gathered after another.