This has been a really, really tough week in our small town. Like everyone else, we started our week with the Mumbai attack and a barrage of bad economic news. Then on Wednesday we learned that 600 of our local mine employees were being laid off. 600 might not be disastrous in some communities, but in a town of 10,000, we're really hurting. Being the number cruncher at the store I immediately said 5% newly unemployed. If the spouses weren't working, that's 10%. Those were just the mine employees and not including the contractors that supported the mine.
I had heard that the woman who used to do most of the mine catering was starting a business in town for the full community. Now I understand why. She must have had her contract terminated already.
But here we sit, heading into the end of year holiday season. We watch commercials full of cheer and joy, urging us to go out and spend money. Its money we need to spend if the economic is to recover, but financially and emotionally its so hard.
We saw an immediate impact to the layoffs. The day after, our sales dropped 40%. A community that felt cautious, but confident in our insulation, now felt panic and despair. Where do small businesses fit into a small community when the big blue Wal-Mart sits just atop the hill with their low prices?
This is also the time when we all reflect on the previous year. We think about loved ones passed. At church this morning we shed tears over the friends who passed over the summer.
And even looking at our pooches our emotions are jerked. Just yesterday Tyler was walking our dogs north of town and our little Lucia was caught in steel claw animal trap. Miraculously she was fine (Tyler believes her to be our reincarnate cat which would explain her nine lives).
This is the season of comfort food. I want my casseroles which I mock during the rest of the year. I want my plain old box cake, which I lift my nose from at the potluck table. I want a good old bowl of oatmeal with a spoonful of brown sugar (okay, maybe palm sugar). I need these foods right now to push past the bleak midwinter. I know these strifes will pass.
I find hope in my New Mexico sunrises each morning. I get that joyful jump start when I see comments from Mark and Larry (and the rest of you too). I feel the connection to my multitude of online friends who are always there for me. A great example - I'm teaching a holiday cookie class for kids today. I don't do cookies very often so I was plum out of ideas. I posted a message at eG right before bed and hoped for some recipes. Sure enough, although the North Americans were sleeping, friends from across the globe posted recipes for me to try. When I awoke and read the responses, I felt that connection that we've formed even though we've never met.
When I eat these holiday cookies today, I get to share that connection with the kids. I get to talk about Chufi, Hummmingbirdkiss, Prasantrin, Verjuice, Jummangy, Tri2Cook and all the other goofy screen names that are part of my pseudonym family. They are the greatest comfort food of all.












