The whole sweet

"I buy but few things, and those not till long after I begin to want them, so that when I do get them I am prepared to make a perfect use of them and extract their whole sweet".

H.D. Thoreau: Journal, April 10, 1854

I’ve really been enjoying a battered copy of “H.D. Thoreau; A Writer’s Journal” purchased for $2.50 at a used book store in Concord last month when we were on our little pilgrimage. I once lived in a small isolated cabin with some early 1900’s reprints of the Journal, but many of the pages were still uncut. I wasn’t supposed to cut them open, so could only read every couple pages. I also was living in an amazing place and filled much of my time with exploring; not as much time for reading. But as the summer waned, I realized what a treasure those books were; I’ve always meant to go back and read more of Thoreau’s journals. Concord seemed the perfect place to re-start that connection.

While in Concord, we spent one night at a small historic home Bed and Breakfast. Some people think those are hopelessly snooty, and I sometimes agree. But in some situations, it seems the best way to stay somewhere “real”, where our money will go to an independent person, not a corporation. I’d love to find more cheap hostels such as are found in New Zealand or Europe but it’s just not a very American thing. BnB’s are not cheap, but in some tourist locations, they are not much expensive more than a regular hotel.

The irony of this particular stay was a bit of luxury before heading off to the mecca of simplicity, Walden Pond. (We made SURE we walked there, refusing many offers of a ride, so there!) I was touched by the afternoon tea served in the library- the owner even purchased gluten-free cookies for WF. I enjoyed the teapots; they seemed like an efficient way to get more than one cup of tea from one kettle-boil and tea bag.


I’ve never owned a teapot in all my years of drinking tea, and felt prepared to make that “perfect use” of it. So one month, a couple of thrift shop visits and $8 later, I now have a lovely teapot that makes me happy. Even though it is more than Thoreau would have willingly owned, I like to hope that he would have approved of the means by which I came to own it myself.


Sometimes it's the little things...