June 11, 2019: Arriving at our Tuesday night burger joint, Cowboy Cafe South in Arlington, we heard the sad news that “The Mayor” had passed away. He had worked at Linda’s breakfast cafe nearby, where he had befriended Nate and Jeremiah and, later, the rest of us. Evenings, he would sit on Cowboy Cafe’s tiny front deck and greet us as we arrived. Hospitality and warmth, kindness and good cheer: just a few of his gifts. The tributes poured in to Cowboy Cafe. I think he knew what a difference he made to all of us.
June 12, 2019: My walk to the Metro today showed pairs of people dotting the sidewalk and path, meeting by chance in this pleasing morning and happy to see each other. My day ended with a similar chance encounter, on the patio in front of my house. My conversation with that engaging young man, so passionate, strengthened even more my confidence in his generation.
June 13, 2019: I walked through a plaza at George Washington University this morning. While “Moon River” chimed rather incongruously from somewhere nearby, I caught a back-alley view I’d never seen before: a narrow brick tower affixed to a squat brick building. A church? The source of the chimes? Neither: it was the back of a 19th century firehouse. I squeezed past the gas grill and the chief’s car to circle frontward. Yes, a firehouse, nicely ornamented. The four-story tower, invisible from the front, afforded a majestic view of DC’s Foggy Bottom and beyond. I imagine the lookout shouting a century ago: Fire! There! Let’s get going.
June 14, 2019: A cluster of moms waited at the corner by our house for the afternoon school bus. Meanwhile, four little boys sat themselves on the shady slope under our crepe myrtle tree, 40 yards away. Are you having a picnic? I asked. No, one said, we’re just talking. But we have some food. Want some?
June 15 2019: Can a comment (or two) on my blog be a delight? I say yes. Any words of kindness or encouragement are. Think who, in this way, you’ve delighted today.
June 16, 2019: During the Children’s Moment at church this morning, Pastor Steve tried to explain “amazement” to a toddler and a four-year old sitting with him on the chancel steps. The toddler kept interrupting: “Look at that!” she said, pointing to the choir loft. “That!” she said, pointing to the chandeliers. “That!” she said, pointing to something else we never notice. “Yes, we see things differently up here,” Pastor Steve said, and welcomed her words as a pretty good illustration of his point.
June 17, 2019: As I admired a large pot of rose-like orange begonias and luscious white caladium, a young woman walked by. Her skirt swung with clusters of orange flowers, exactly the shade and size of the begonias beside her. Oh ho, this would be my delight! I scampered back to the woman, who lingered a few dozen yards away and interrupted her. I have a blog, I said. I post daily delights, and today when I saw your skirt next to those flowers…. Would you let me take a picture? Oh, yes, she said. I hadn’t even noticed! As we parted, I thanked her: your kindness, I said, was my second delight.
June 20, 2019: I went shopping in my closet today and found a cute dress I hadn’t seen (never mind worn) in years. Having no muscle memory for the usual necklace and earrings, I forgetfully left the house unbangled. I realized my lack too late to turn back. I tugged my empty earlobes with dismay. Should I solve this problem? After all, I have an emergency pair at my office. Or maybe I should consider it another bit of freedom from routine — and, therefore, — a delight.