In the details

The time was Friday night, and she left her knitting at work and had to go back to the studio, it should only take ten minutes, do you want anything, okay a bottle of tonic, during which time the fire in the stove gradually grew, probably due to the green sticks I'm reduced to using for kindling, finally combusting a handful of wood chips, which consumed a miniature log cabin of thin split logs, which engulfed three or four full-sized pear branches that fill the house with a fruity aroma.

It all adds up, and then it all reduces down to almost nothing, you can see in a clean well-lighted room that it's not absolutely nada, as he nudges the air intake closed a half-inch to slow down the conflagration, a small adjustment that over the course of the next four hours affects the whole house.

The guacamole has been tightly sealed so it's still good after a few days in a ceramic bowl in the fridge, and smeared on half a slice of bagel, eaten between bites of brown rice and adzuki beans, heavy on the salsa which is heavy on the onions, and you've got a sweet, sour, salty, savory sense of the moment. The Chardonnay, the fine conundrum, make tonight a wonderful day.