The Way You Look At It

Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof, we say, which is an expression I like. First, it suggests that there's such a thing is insufficient evil. I once heard a guy complaining that when he was younger he had wanted a certain guitar, and his dad had refused to buy him the guitar. A friend of mine named Jim was listening, not saying anything, and I inwardly winced because Jim's dad had died when Jim was in his early teens. Jim used to make a point of eating liver now and then, if I remember correctly, because his dad had always urged him to do so. At any rate, the unbestowed guitar didn't seem like such a big deal, under the circumstances.

And having troubles focuses the mind, doesn't it? It gives you problems to solve and happier days to look forward to. Anyway—sufficient evil today for the likes of me, but I'll spare you the details. Same old stuff, nothing so unusual. But the sufficiency of evil hardly ever means you don't have reasons to be of good cheer. It's early February here in the northern hemisphere, but we're having a sudden warm spell where I live, and when I left the house this morning, damn if the birds weren't singing. Can't remember the last time I heard that, and I stopped on my back porch for a moment to listen. Then I got in the car and went out to see a fly fishing buddy, and we tied flies and practiced casting for an upcoming trip. And nearing home, around dinnertime, the moon was painting a silvery glow on the snowy fields. And now the cat is lying on my lap as I type. He almost died, not quite a year ago. Almost. Which only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, to coin another phrase. Birdsong, fishing buddies, moonlight on the snow, a purring cat. Sufficient to the day are the blessings thereof as well, the way I see it. The cat isn't complaining, at any rate, and neither am I.