Little things ...

As I settle into my new space, it's the little things that are keeping me busy now.

A new shower caddy for my bathroom. A new bathmat for the guest bathroom. A trash can for the den. The list is a long one.

But I'm getting there.

I like the new apartment a lot. But I haven't developed the patterns and pathways yet. Coming out of the kitchen, I have to think about which way to turn to get to the linen closet. If I'm in the dining room, I have to stop for an instant and plot the way to the coat closet.

These things will become automatic -- quickly, I hope

But no matter where I live, there are touchstones in my life that go back to my boyhood.

Those of you who live in Richmond or have lived here know what a cause for celebration it is that Hanover tomatoes are beginning to come in. (Hanover is a county north of Richmond that is famed for its tomatoes; it has something to do with the soil.)

For lunch today in my new apartment, I had a Hanover tomato sandwich with Duke's mayonnaise on white bread. The first taste of the season's local tomatoes is an experience almost like ecstasy. When I was a child, my father taught me the ritual. We'd take a salt shaker out to the backyard garden, pick the first ripe, warmed-by-the-sun tomatoes from the vine, salt them and eat them right there on the spot. Does anything ever taste so delicious?

When I grew up and had my own garden, I continued to eat the season's first tomato in just that way.

Alas, I no longer have a backyard. But this year's first tomato, bought from a farmer's stand here in town, was just as good.

The little things can also bring great satisfaction.