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Three Cheers

October 23, 2015

Ya know…   sometimes it’s just the small things… like the warm and fuzzy feeling you get when you stop at the store on your way home for milk and you end up just so grateful to be living where you’re living.

I’m not kidding. I was second in line, waiting to place my few items on the conveyor and I glanced at the magazine rack–the place where you ordinarily catch up on the cheesiest of hollywood gossip or where you’re likely to feel shamed for your flawed and aging body, or amused-slash-repulsed by some grotesquely exaggerated (non)fact of human indignity (she did what with a hockey puck?).  Instead…

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The closest they come to provocative headlines is that one, “Strange But True,” which is on the cover of National Geographic… so I think it’s safe. (At least until Rupert Murdoch gets control of the editorial board. Big, fat sigh.)

The Coop’s impulse-buy magazine rack is a gentle, constructive, shock-free zone. Thanks Coop magazine buyers. We appreciate you.

Feeling all warm and un-cynical–a nice way to feel–I headed out to my car, past their lovely fall display…

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Here’s a close up of the display’s big daddy…

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Way to stick with your branding, guys! A sign of a very heads up marketing staff.

As I do about half the time, I left my bag in my car… so here’s a shot of my cartful of groceries that I’ll transfer to a canvas bag. Mostly it’s a shot of a human scale, garden-filled parking lot, situated in a quiet, tree-lined, downtown neighborhood. If you have to shop….

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And finally… a parting shot as I return the cart…

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I guess I can call this a typical non-work day, since I’m, um, now working three days a week: a long workout and yoga session this morning; followed by a 90-minute massage to fix that stubbornly displaced hip; a pair-o-errands because ya gotta; a stop at Mishka’s for a cafe au lait, croissant and a bit of reading on the patio; the above trip to the coop; and dinner/movie with the husb in a bit.

I pretty much think that’s why I’m happy. There’s a lot of life to love in Davis.

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