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Shortly before three this morning, I enjoyed the simplest and most delicious improvised meal: a bowl of homemade macaroni and cheese sprinkled with feta and shredded cheddar. With a glass of Argentine Malbec, it was something to savor and enjoy, one of life’s very small and unexpected perfections.

I wasn’t simply eating and drinking; I was living. I don’t often experience such pleasures these days, so every bite and every sip came as a new and delicate surprise. I paused for a brief and heartfelt thanks,  and wondered if I would also be blessed with sleep.

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