This morning when I visited the corner grocery to pick up some early potatoes for the stew we are having for dinner, I said something that drew a broad smile from the middle-aged Flemish owner with whom we have exchanged banter from time to time over the 30 years that we live at our present address and that he served as his father’s assistant before taking over the business. I told him that yesterday I had spent the day up in Knokke, a Belgian seaside resort, and understood from the manifest joie de vivre of everyone around that no one there could possibly imagine that the end of the world is nigh. Shopping in elegant boutiques was going strong, especially since these are the final days of the end-of-year sales. The restaurants and pubs, from gourmet at the top to carry-outs at the bottom, were all overwhelmed by customers at midday. The sun was shining and all was well with the world.
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