of the material world but it felt unfair.  He had just put a piece of scone in his mouth.  It’s unfair to ask anything but a hello or nod of assent of someone with his mouth full, so I deferred my complaint and used the interval to bring my recycling to the bins to give Lasse time to swallow.

In the Recycling Area, I found a perfect jar, exactly the dimensions I did not yet know  I wanted, but once I saw it, it gave me great relief.  The perfect vessel for chocolate, impenetrable by mice, the whole momentum of complaint subsided in the perfection of the wide-mouth jar.

(August 2007, journal entry.  I like using this blog as a place to sketch out these fragments. )