But perhaps I would find a pie of the right size still on the shelf if I got to the store earlier in the day. My propensity for leaving the shopping until late afternoon might be what is depriving me of pie: the fault not in my Safeway, but in myself that I am pieless. Still, the store could have baked more. They must have known the pies would be popular. Yes, I feel much better blaming them than blaming myself— especially since I have no pie with which to reward myself for my critical self-reflection.
Though the pie was gone, the trip was worthwhile on the whole, as I got to see lots of trees turning red and gold, plus cheese was on sale, too, and there was plenty of that. The soup that was missing from the shelves on Friday was there today as well, so this week, and next, and maybe the week after, there will be soup with grilled cheese sandwiches. I'm already looking forward to lunch tomorrow and I haven't even had tonight's dinner yet. I'd call that a good day.
I Taught Myself To Live Simply
by Anna Akhmatova
I taught myself to live simply and wisely,
to look at the sky and pray to God,
and to wander long before evening
to tire my superfluous worries.
When the burdocks rustle in the ravine
and the yellow-red rowanberry cluster droops
I compose happy verses
about life's decay, decay and beauty.
I come back. The fluffy cat
licks my palm, purrs so sweetly
and the fire flares bright
on the saw-mill turret by the lake.
Only the cry of a stork landing on the roof
occasionally breaks the silence.
If you knock on my door
I may not even hear.