Some Days

August 29, 2008 - 1:29pm -- swingbug

I would like you to meet my lunch. Leftover tortellini, fresh figs from my garden, a chunk of feta cheese, for no other reason than because I wanted it, and iced tea just the way I like it: half mint, half black, no sugar.

Some days life is hard. Some times are frustrating. Maybe most times.

But some days there are roses in the kitchen. Some days there is a cold coke in a glass bottle in fridge and a good episode of Star Trek in the DVD player. Sometimes, when you’re driving to the grocery store, a Stray Cats song comes on the radio.

It’s a question of perspective, usually.

Some days you have just the right amount of yarn. Sometimes you put on a pair of jeans and find five dollars you didn’t know you had in the pocket. Your toddler offers you his last graham cracker, or your husband touches your face in just the right way.

Once, in the Woodland mall, I stopped to drop a penny in a charity box in the shape of a big funnel. I dropped my coin in the slot and watched my penny spin on its edge around and around on its way to the hole in the bottom. A middle-aged man in a business suit stopped to watch. He dug around in his own pocket for a penny and dropped in it. The pennies spun around each other, faster and faster, until they finally plopped in to the vault at the bottom, one by one. The stranger and I looked at each other and smiled, and then each turned and went our separate ways. I carried that smile around with me for a while. Such a simple thing.

These are little things. Very small.

But they have mass.

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