JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: Thursday through Friday we had our first heavy snowfall of the season (and if you're thinking that's awfully late for southern Maine, my friends, you are correct.) I had to do some shoveling early to get the car out, but it really accumulated, so I didn't touch anything else except the stairs to the porch until Phil, my plow guy, arrived at 3pm. I had my checkbook at my side, knowing he'd show up sooner or later, and managed to hustle into my boots and trot out with his payment before he'd left. Bill taken care of, and I saved one first class stamp. (Phil is an old-fashioned businessman, as many are here in New England, and he takes payment in cash or check. I'm not sure he's heard of Venmo or Zelle or Square.)
I ducked back inside positively glowing with the sense of virtue, which got me thinking about that wonderful feeling. Now, we all know the usual sources of a virtuous glow. Saying no to that second helping of dessert. Crossing off items on our to-do list. Handing in your corrections/assignment/manuscript on time. (Sadly, for me, I must paraphrase J.M. Barrie on this: "she was looking through the window at the one joy from which she must be for ever barred.”)
But what about those lesser-known moments of shining virtue? Here are a few of mine:
1. Shoveling the snow BEFORE the temperatures drop and it becomes a hardened, lumpy mess. As soon as Phil had driven off, check in hand, the boys and I went out. While they ran up and down the drive, I shoveled my car completely free of snow, so next time I want to go, I'm going to be able to just throw it in reverse and zoom. I did this right away! No hesitation! I felt so good about it, the boys and I all got a treat when we came back inside. (Milk bones and hot cocoa, respectively.)
.jpg)
2. Having my taxes ready to go by the end of January. This should be a no-brainer, since I just have to pull together my documents and make a spreadsheet of expenses for my accountant. But you would not believe how many years I've dragged my feet on this. I was better when I had kids in college - competition for that FAFSA money is fierce, and you want to be at the front of the line. Since Youngest graduated last May, I was worried I might fall back into bad habits, ie, stuffing a form to file late and a check for a completely made-up amount in an envelope and driving it to the one big city post office still open at 7pm on April 15th.
But I'm on track to have everything done by the time I get my last tax document! If I do send my stuff off on January 31st, I will bask in the glow of my own wonderfulness. And maybe have a chocolate bar.
3. Changing light bulbs as soon as they burn out. I dunno, does this make me weird? I always keep a whole bunch of spares in my pantry, so it's, like, the one and only "home repair" I can effect competently and quickly. It feels so good when I snap the new one on.
4. Washing the dishes. The pots and pans and good stuff you can't put in the dishwasher, I mean. This has got to be the most ordinary household task possible, but I swear, each and every time I set the last wet glass in the drying rack, I feel like I've successfully completed a marathon.
5. Keeping wine on hand. Since the Maine Millennial has moved into her very own, bought-with-her-money house, I've started stocking up my bar again. One of my hacks is to stop at RSVP Liquors in Portland after church and hitting up their closeout wine sale section. (First time I did this I felt a little conspicuous, but I can tell by the outfits of other shoppers I'm not the only person in town who likes their religion followed by a chaser.)
Their stock is always at least decent, so I buy marked down bottles with confidence that, at the very least, they'll be fine to serve after the good stuff has been drunk up (an appropriate biblical reference, come to think of it.) I've been entertaining small numbers of friends at home, and I love not having to think about whether I'm set for wine with the meal - and every time I head out to dinner at someone else's home with a bottle tucked under my arm, I feel the powerful glow of being a Good Guest.
How about you, dear readers? What are the unexpected actions that bring you that glow of virtue rewarded?
