Today is Enough

I confess. I've been dragging through this holiday season, collecting a few shop window reflections to cheer me up (spiky tree, spiky hair, I love it) but still feeling depressed.

I know the why. It's the root cause of any and all depressions I have. (I don't think my depression is clinical by the way. And not just because I'm a medical nihilist. So I probably should call it sadness or being down or blah.) When I slip into a mode of worrying about accomplishments and things and when I last dusted those things I find that I fall out of true appreciation of life and being centered in it. The more I revel in the taste of my food, the minutiae around me, the conversations I hear then the better I feel. The more I notice my steps and wonder that they are still strong for someone who is over 65 then the more the black cloak yields. The more I notice the bright crisp beautiful day then it seems less heinous that people are rushing about for piles of mindless presents. If I stop to read a paragraph in my books while I dust them and don't rush through other household things but stop and revel in my wonderful possessions in my little apartment and my ability to still climb the ladder and reach the high shelves, then chores seem to fall into their place not as awful duties but as wonderful privileges. Not everyone can climb that ladder.

To this point I read an article in The New York Times: "Abundance Without Attachment." I love two quotes in this article and I'll share them here in case you hate following links.

CHRISTMAS is at our throats again. - Noël Coward

Christmas is not a time nor a season, but a state of mind. To cherish peace and good will, to be plenteous in mercy, is to have the real spirit of Christmas. - Calvin Coolidge

The article asserts that we should be happy about abundance if we have it and share it but should also avoid attachment. It is the attachment to money and things that is our downfall. In case you still hate following links I'll outline the three-pronged approach to achieving this.

• First, collect experiences, not things.
• Second, steer clear of excessive usefulness.
• And finally, get to the center of the wheel.

First point is pretty obvious, I think. 

The second means doing things for their own sake rather than as a means to a reward. So we clean for the pleasure of the task. We drive to enjoy the road even though, yes, we are headed somewhere. We read and converse not to get information and use it for success but because reading and conversing are pleasure.

The third means moving from the ups and downs of life to the core thing that you think life is about. Many think this is religious faith. According to this article some churches have a 'wheel of life' decoration in a window with a king at the top, a pauper at the bottom and Jesus in the center. Have to look for that. My center is inhabiting the world in full acknowledgment the chaos and hate but with thankfulness that my basic needs are taken care of and that I have means beyond those needs to help others.  Living with the understanding that everything that swirls around me and irritates me (diseases, politics, bad drivers, heedless bikers, active shooters, terrorists, prejudice, psychosis) is just noise until the day comes that it is my day. If I merely try not to be the instrument of pain for someone else, I will be centered.  If I simply enjoy being in this moment, able to type if not 'write' something, then I have all the peace I want or expect.

That active shooter thing? One block away the morning after Thanksgiving was the closest I've come. There have been close calls while walking and driving. In my 20's a medical condition that could have killed me instead infected my appendix and led to surgery that short stopped it. I have stumbled where a fall would have been horrendous if not fatal. This is where we all exist. On a precipice between life and death, relative health and serious decline. The only way we can live happily is to find the center. 

My center is acknowledgment. Of the tightrope we are on and the fact that one day we all fall and we cannot build the kind of net that will protect us. Which means being cautious but resigned. And enjoying every little moment for itself.

Today is enough. And is, in fact, tremendous. 

Feed the Rich...Desserts

I was torn about where to post this entry. Here in my regular journal (which my husband says makes our lives an open book but I don't really think so)? Or in the Journal of Unintended Consequences, my other blog, which is intended to capture the chaotic results from well-intentioned (or not) actions? I decided to put it here because somehow I thought that would be less controversial. I'm not really raising an objection to feeding the rich. Everybody's got to eat, you know, to sustain life.

The photo is of a sausage-shaped big cheese (I think) at Mandola's Market, posing with some of its sausage friends.

Now, I consider myself rich. I don't have any debt, I can budget for things like 'gifts' and 'donations' and 'eating out.' I don't work. Yeah. The idle rich even. Hasn't always been so, but I was never as poor as my parents or grandparents once were.

I've noticed that, when you donate money to things or you entertain friends or do them favors or people think you are going to do them a favor or donate money, people give you free food and booze.

I have often wondered if you could just live off this free stuff. For weeks at a time. I'm not really trying to do that and, besides, it would probably require lining your pockets with zip lock bags as my friend SuRu points out. But yesterday when I got up I realized that for that one day I could probably get by on what was free. So I decided to try it.

Now first off, I'm not a 'breakfast is the most important meal of the day' person. When I get up in the morning, I'm not usually hungry at all. I want coffee. Black coffee. And lots of it. So in my experiment I decided that I would allow myself unlimited coffee made in my very own Jura-Capresso E8. (See this entry also.) Of course, there are no calories in black coffee. Just a buzz.

During the morning, I went to my club and rode the recumbent bike for thirty minutes. The bike claimed I'd burned 200 calories. Just before I showered I weighed on the fancy-looking digital scales from Sharper Image that we bought when we decorated our remodeled bathroom. (See photo of bathroom in my old journal...the scales fit in with that decor. Hmmm...maybe FFP is right about the open book thing!) My weight was 163.6. Seems like the scale said just over 160 a few days ago. But it fluctuates. Who knows?

Around 12:20 we headed downtown. We got into a huge traffic jam at 5th and Lamar caused by the city's urge to close a couple of lanes of W. 5th every weekend. Still we found a parking place and found a bus that was taking the media around for a tour of markets as part of the Texas Hill Country Wine and Food Festival. I figured...free food! While we waited for the bus to depart I took a quick swing through the Saturday Downtown Farmer's Market. (I imagined when we were living downtown how I would stroll through the market and buy some vegies and greens and goat cheese for the week.) I got a free taste of some delicious Hibiscus Tea. I saw that the goat cheese and honey people had those tiny plastic tasting spoons. But I figured a small taste would just send my juices up too high.

The bus headed out to Mandola's Italian Market near our house. For some reason they used the surface streets. As we drove by the University I saw some homeless guys digging in a trash can. I was feeling a little hungry myself. Several eateries on Guadalupe (Milto's, Ruby's Barbecue, Zen, NeWorlDeli) suddenly seemed very attractive. As we filed into the market to get a talk from one of the owners we walked by outside tables where people were scarfing late lunches (it was 1:15 by now) of pizza and salad and anti-pastas and all manner of stuff that was looking increasingly delicious. But there were no samples! The best I could do was to grab a little bit of cranberry walnut bread out for sampling by the general public. I listened to the owner talk about the operation (their own winery, imported Italian groceries, baking almost all their own stuff, very interesting actually, etc.) and tried not to feel too hungry. We were given a goody bag. It contained a jar of artichokes and olives and stuff in a tomato sauce, a pack of three or four baked crackers and some biscoti and cookies along with one of those napkin/cutlery packets you get with takeout. On the way out I looked at the bread sample basket...but all the samples were gone. Darn! In the bus, I ate one of the crackers and a little cookie of some sort. That took the edge off.

We drove back toward downtown and over to South Congress and were soon at Cissi's Market. This was feed the rich nirvana! I took a glass of the offered white wine but fortified myself before drinking much with chips on sample. They had some Austin Slow Burn Salsa Verde out, too. Then they started circulating with platters containing tiny bite-size hors d'oeuvre. Ah, heaven. Vanilla-poached lobster with Shiraz grits. Little pulled pork sandwiches on cornbread the size of pill boxes. They had a lot, too, so we were encouraged to have multiples. I began to think I'd survive on my free food diet. I sipped a little wine. I had one bite of lemon bar dessert. I'm not much of a dessert person. That would be my downfall on this regimen. A peek inside our goodie bag from Cissi's revealed a sack of coffee beans, giant home-style cookies and chocolate!

Next we went to Farm To Market Grocery. It's been there on South Congress for a while. A tiny space stocking a lot of food and a few gift items, it has 30% local products including flowers out front that are from the Hill Country. The people there were really nice and were passing out goat milk ice cream, sodas and water. And they gave us goody bags with a private label chocolate bar and a Butters Brownie. Now, as I said, I'm not much on sweets. I actually had eaten a Butters Brownie a few nights ago. (There was a sample in the media bag we got.) The goat milk part tempted me on the ice cream but I just ask others how it tasted.

We headed west of W. Mary and located the P&K Grocery. This place was ultra funky and hip at the same time. They had taken an old building, used antique fixtures where possible and had some antique glassware and china and collectibles for sale. They had a deli counter with hot sandwiches and other stuff. They make their own pimento cheese and hummus and hot dog condiments. They sell goat cheese on a stick (lolipops!). That made my stomach rumble. But they weren't giving them away. They were giving away little square pimento cheese sandwich samples and freshly made lemonade. Also deviled eggs but for some reason I didn't get one before we got on the bus. I'd regret that. That 1.5 inch square sandwich wasn't going to hold me long. And their goodie bag had samples of their hot dog condiments. Which would have been great if someone was giving away hot dogs!

When we got home, I had some coffee and water. I was actually a little hungry. The only free thing that wasn't sweet was some of those plain crackers and that artichoke concoction Mandola's gave us. So I opened it up and had a little of that with the crackers. Later a bag of caramel corn Cissi's gave us (a private label product with a light hand on the coating, not at all like Crackerjacks) called to me. As I always do with such products...I checked the calories in the entire bag...about seven hundred and eighty! They were pretty good, sort of salty and sweet, but I stopped eating after only a couple of hundred calories.

A few hours later, we dressed up and went to a house over near Lake Austin. The party was free. Well, if you don't count the hefty annual donation that had yielded the invitation. When I saw plates of food, I found the dining room and filled a plate with tender beef, roll and butter, green beans, roasted root vegies, roasted purple and white fingerling potatoes and rice. The offerings seemed a bit odd...no chicken or fish and a lot of starch but I wasn't complaining. I took some of everything and polished off all the carbs and a few ounces of the beef with a glass of free red wine. (I had finished a glass of white I'd gotten coming in.) Later I had a coffee and three mini madeleines.

At home Forrest ate some of the caramel corn and so I finished the bag. I was tempted to grab a cheese snack from the fridge, but true to my word, I stuck to coffee and what the world fed the rich today. Which seemed a little heavy on the sweet side. Let 'em eat cake, I guess.

As I finish this entry I'm waiting for FFP to come home. We might go to the Texas Hill Country Wine and Food Festival Fair. There would be lots of free food. And we have press passes. But jockeying for free food with thousands of other people and drinking wine outdoors on a hot day sounds less and less fun now that I think about it. I haven't eaten so far today. I've had my coffee, a bottle of water and a walk around the neighborhood. I'm feeling a little hungry. But not hungry enough to go for the chocolate and cookies left over from the free stuff from yesterday.

It's Best to Have Rich Friends

Last night I was sitting at a table for eight with some of the 'lesser' donors for a nonprofit capital campaign we are involved in. I imagine all the couples at the table gave 'five figures' as they say but at other tables were the people for whom six and seven figures are not out of the question for multiple charities.


We were joking with some pals about being at the kid's table. Then one of the guys was wondering about the net worth 'in the room.'

"About a billion," I said. "With a 'b'. Even with us here."


I really think it was true. How do you really know though? But some of the people have given away my net worth several times over.


It's nice to have rich friends, of course. They have wine cellars with enough 1985 Cos d'Estournel (an esteemed Bordeaux) and old Montrachet to pour for forty people. And a bottle of champagne as big as a horse for the toasts and dessert. They have a domed room plenty large enough for forty or fifty people to dine. They have space to exhibit amazing weird art. The house was like a museum. Right after I arrived a woman who also has a house like a museum was commenting on a painting and said the stance of a hip hop guy in the painting reminded her of the stance of a Rubenesque naked woman in a painting her husband gave her. She was flustered because she couldn't remember the artist.


"Botero?" I offered.


"That's it! Of course." She said.


It's great to have rich friends. And if you can help them identify their holdings so much the better.


Honestly. It's better to have rich friends than to be rich. Being rich is such a responsibility.


It's all relative, of course. I know that most people consider me rich. I consider myself rich if only because I'm catching the glow of these friends.