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Welcome to Simple Abundance Online,
December, 2011!
Dearest Friends,
It’s taken me a long time to learn to love November, but now I welcome her with open arms. To begin with, she brings an extra hour of sleep, as we turn the clocks back, even if it’s dark at both ends of bedtime. Learning to comfort ourselves through Life’s dark moments is November’s abundant gift. When I first moved to the English countryside, my most surprising adjustment was learning to live according to the rhythm of seasons and natural light. Day is for activity, night is for rest. Summer, Spring and Fall for activity. Winter for rest. 'There’s a certain Slant of light', as Emily Dickinson points out, 'When the Landscape listens.' We do, too, or should.
My wife threw her newspaper down with a gesture of not only boredom but actual disgust.
'Evidently you don’t like the news to-day', I remarked.
'News!' She came as near to snorting as it is polite to insinuate a woman ever does. 'News!' I don’t know whether I like it or not. I can’t find any in this paper. I only wish I could; I’m getting hungry for some real news. But it simply isn’t printed anymore; at least, none worth reading is printed any more—none that’s interesting. All you get in a paper is just a mass of words—just the same old day-after-day stuff about accidents, boot-legging, counterfeiting, divorces, elopements, fires, grafting, hi-jacking, indictments, jazz, kidnapping, larceny, murders, notables, obituaries, peculations, quackery, reformers, suicides, taxes, ultimatums, vamps, wrecks, yes-men and zanies in general…Why don’t they put something entertaining into them? Surely somebody somewhere is doing something worth mentioning. But the papers can’t find out about it. They keep printing the same old stuff. I’d like to know what’s going on in the world.
Our cover [girl] this month not only suggests the harvest season, but carries our thoughts back to the days of the first settlers of this wonderful country—days when thanksgiving was genuine and sincere, under conditions that for us would mean little but hardship.
Might we not, then well pause for a moment and consider what in particular the women of today have reason to be thankful for? We need not go outside the home to get well started on our list.
We might begin with—comfortably heated houses, unknown to our grandmothers, for the most part, and now so common we rarely think to count them among our blessings. And in those houses we have all sorts of conveniences and labor saving devises which would have been a seven day wonder to our Pilgrim ancestresses.
New forces we have, turned into channels that lighten and brighten our daily tasks tremendously. Electricity, which lights our homes, cooks our meals, washes our dishes, sweeps our floors, washes our clothes, dries them, then irons them, supplies both heat and cold, in fact, makes household drudgery a memory…and the radio! Bringing us the world’s news even as it happens.
Truly, Thanksgiving Day in this year of grace 1926 need be no idle gesture!
November inspires larder lust and encourages a satisfying Saturday morning preparing the Fancy Pantry with a seasonal scrub, fresh shelf paper and then a girly potter arranging glistening jars of jewel colored jars of jams, jellies, conserves, fruited honeys, marmalades, mustards, chutneys, the potted and pickles picked up at farmer’s markets on my travels. Vintage floral and check fabrics get snipped into charming circles with pinking shears (secured with a rubber band) and tied with ribbon.
Like everything else in the natural world, the horizon changes with the seasons; becoming familiar with the mysteries of light and darkness is an exquisite seasonal splendor. The light in November is crisper than in the warm haze of June, but November’s velvety darkness has just as distinctive a beauty as July’s gossamer nightshade. Learning to love the nights of our lives, as well as the November days is the beginning of contentment.
Here’s hoping that you find a hushed and reassuring corner at Simple Abundance Online and sending out a prayer that you and yours will only know peace and plenty this month and always.
Dearest love,
Sarah Ban Breathnach
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