Seneca wrote "Light griefs are communicative; great ones stupefy."
Or another way of saying that there are times when I find it easier to keep my head down. Or perhaps that I am likely to yammer on about small complaints, and remain silent in the face of the enormous ones.
I was really ill last week, and of course, the whole world was going to hell in a handbasket.
(A friend and I used to joke about going to hell in a handbasket. We would talk about what we would take in our handbasket on our way to hell. It usually involved cake and coffee. If we were going to hell, we were going in style and well fed.)
Actually, the whole world is still going to hell in a handbasket. The Angels certainly went to hell in a handbasket (I don't take no mess and they don't get no cake).
I have been baking cake. And bread. I'm working my way off the grid of the world. I can buy 15 lbs. of bread flour for the price of a loaf of bread. I know the names of the farms that supply my vegetables, all of which are local. My eggs and milk are locally produced, too. I am fed up with the globalization of the food supply (and yet, my family is well fed).
I found out late last night that Coldplay just added a show in So Cal! I'd been toying with the idea of going to see them in Phoenix until I realized the show was the night before Thanksgiving. They opened this tour at the Forum the day I left for London, and then headed over to Europe around the time I got back to L.A. I also missed the only other show I'd have liked to go to--REM--because they played Hollywood Bowl at the end of May, when I was drowning in responsibility. I've been playing with the idea of going to Dallas to see them and still may. All this traveling to concerts stuff originated with them, anyway, long ago.
And now, to the garden, to earn my keep.
Climb up, up in the trees,
every chance that you get,
is a chance you seize.
Go listen to some good music: "Speed of Sound" from the album X & Y by Coldplay.