By Mike Johnson
My toast to this new week is covered with peanut butter.
A sip of warm mocha clears my palate.
Soft amber lamps direct my focus in the darkened writing nook.
Simple pleasures.
I just luxuriated in a paperback chapter of James Herriot to relax and prime my mental pump.
The man is the epitome of a successful life.
Sharing that life in half a dozen books made him a prolific and successful writer.
Nearly a century later, TV series are still being produced from his stories.
I'll be watching last night's latest PBS episode after posting this.
Where Herriot really excelled was his ability to first notice, then appreciate the mundane.
A clean towel to wipe off his arm that was deep up a cow.
A glass of sherry next to a client’s glowing woodstove.
A slab of meat pie gifted for birthing a breached lamb.
Herriot taught that if you have warmth and sustenance and a worthwhile purpose, you have everything.
Any more is just an embarrassment of riches.
As a Yorkshire veterinarian, Herriot’s safe deposit box was squeaky clean but his life was filthy rich.
Simple pleasures.
The more complex your life, the more you need them.
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