{"id":34334,"date":"2017-12-18T06:19:58","date_gmt":"2017-12-18T14:19:58","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/?p=34334"},"modified":"2017-12-18T06:20:22","modified_gmt":"2017-12-18T14:20:22","slug":"simple-abundance","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/2017\/12\/18\/simple-abundance\/","title":{"rendered":"Simple abundance"},"content":{"rendered":"

When last we spoke, I couldn’t brain because I had the dumb<\/a>. I decided to take the weekend off from blogging — and in fact from every sort of pressure or expectation for myself.<\/p>\n

That’s harder to do than to decide to do.<\/p>\n

It began nicely. Friday evening — softly drizzly, but peaceful — Ava and I wandered the town enjoying Christmas lights. Then I stopped into the grocery store to pick up ingredients for beef stew, my favorite fall comfort food. The old family recipe I adapted requires Kitchen Bouquet, a condiment from Mom’s day that I’m always surprised is still available. <\/p>\n

As I turned to head down the Kitchen Bouquet aisle, I was overwhelmed by an attack of joy. The little grocery store suddenly struck me as a place of incalculable riches. Which in fact it is.<\/p>\n

The store, with its well-stocked shelves of absolutely everything anybody could want, felt suddenly lit with a glow of abundance, the abundance only freedom can create. In what other time and place have ordinary people, even poor people, had so much as we do? As I walked past the endless variety of pickles, the salad dressings both corporate-made and regional-artisanal, the vinegars both common and cheap and exotic and dear, I had very nearly a mystical experience. The riches on the shelves seemed brighter than Christmas lights. I was overwhelmed with wonder by an otherwise completely mundane experience. Even now, two days later, when I think of that moment it’s as if all the glass jars were glowing from within.<\/p>\n

—–<\/p>\n

I came home, still floating a bit. Then Ava, the cat, and I sat out on the screen porch until there was no more light left in the day.<\/p>\n

And not much later I was surprised to stumble across this paean to the prosperity of free trade<\/a> by Kevin D. Williamson that echoed the love and wonder I felt walking through my small-town market.<\/p>\n

—–<\/p>\n

Saturday morning I awoke in the dark as I always do. But instead of picking up a book or opening the computer while enjoying my morning tea, I determined simply to enjoy the morning.<\/p>\n

My favorite time of day is the half hour just before dawn when objects are defined, but colorless. Everything is shades of gray. Then with no sun yet visible, color gradually seeps into the world.<\/p>\n

At least I say<\/em> it’s my favorite time of day. Truth is, I usually miss it because I’m surfing the ‘Net.<\/p>\n

Saturday it took effort just to sit still, sip my tea, quiet my speeding brain, and await the return of light and color.<\/p>\n

One thing I realized is how many household lights blight the experience. The modem glows blue. The router glows white. The red-lighted switch on the power strip competes with the one on the space heater at my feet. Every household device seems to have a green- or red-glowing clock on it. Wireless headphones announce with a red glare that they’re charging. A button on the heat pump lights green to inform me it’s working.<\/p>\n

I shut down all of them that I could and watched the morning arrive in peace. <\/p>\n

—–<\/p>\n

The only pressure during the weekend came when friends who are fostering a dog lured me to their house to meet her. They know I don’t want another dog. But they said this one was “once in a lifetime” and I really needed to see her.<\/p>\n

They thought she was a lot like Robbie<\/a>. I thought of all the reasons I really, really, really do not want another dog now — and drove out to their place, anyhow. <\/p>\n

The dog was a two-year-old pit bull, maybe mixed with chow chow and who knows what else. She did have a lot in common with Robbie, though not necessarily always in a good way. Definitely a diamond in the rough. A sweet dog with quiet dignity, but fiercely protective and sketchily trained. I was picturing playing referee between two divas. One would start the fights and the other — younger, tenacious, and with broad bully jaws — would decisively end them. I was relieved to find myself not<\/em> falling in love with her.<\/p>\n

No thank you, I said. <\/p>\n

It’s been a weekend for gratitude. But Ava, who has exulted in being the only dog since her bully-brother’s death<\/a> has no idea how grateful she should be to me for making that choice.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

When last we spoke, I couldn’t brain because I had the dumb. I decided to take the weekend off from blogging — and in fact from every sort of pressure or expectation for myself. That’s harder to do than to decide to do. It began nicely. Friday evening — softly drizzly, but peaceful — Ava and I wandered the town enjoying Christmas lights. Then I stopped into the grocery store to pick up ingredients for beef stew, my favorite fall comfort food. The old family recipe I adapted requires Kitchen Bouquet, a condiment from Mom’s day that I’m always surprised…<\/p>\n

Continue readingSimple abundance<\/span><\/a><\/div>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[8,18,31],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-34334","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-dogs-and-cats","category-mind-and-spirit","category-rural-and-small-town-living","ratio-natural","entry"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/34334","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=34334"}],"version-history":[{"count":9,"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/34334\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":34343,"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/34334\/revisions\/34343"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=34334"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=34334"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=34334"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}