Delights: May 1 to May 7

May 1: A few weeks ago, my exercise studio celebrated a friend’s 500th class. Foot-high illuminated “5-0-0” numerals decorated her usual space and we applauded enthusiastically when the instructor announced her achievement. Stepping out of the exercise room into the studio lobby, we were greeted by more celebration: her husband and daughter with grins on their faces and flowers in their hands, along with another 5-0-0 in big balloons. They passed around flutes of champagne (everyone knows champagne has zero calories when drunk at an exercise studio) and we cheered Kathi again. Suddenly, the 5 drifted to the rafters. We cheered a third time.

This morning, I looked up at the rafters. The balloon still there. A little bit saggy, but still shiny. Just like us? 

May 2: I live in a small town; to its credit, the town’s website seems easy to navigate via drop-down menus and internet searches. And yet I could not find a street map. I sought nothing fancy: not a map speckled with icons for our parks; or a map marking our streams, culverts and storm drains (tempting as that was); or a map showing zoning districts. Just a simple street map. It could be dated 1985, for all I cared. 

So finally I did what any 1980s person would do: ask a librarian. I entered our library, made my request, grabbed a sunny chair and started reading. Five minutes later, I was gazing at the perfect map, courtesy of the librarian. He even made me a handful of copies.

On my way out the door an hour later (the sun was yummy), I stopped to chat with the librarian about how searches have changed since the 1980s. We reminisced about microfiche and the Readers’ Guide to Periodical Literature. He told me about now-gone drawers of maps and shelves of phonebooks. He mentioned research guides I’d never heard of.

There was a time when the local librarian was the information facilitator who could do everything from launching school research projects to settling bar bets. Would the librarian go back to those pre-internet days? No way. But boy was he happy to help a desperate person of a certain age who remembered that sometimes the best search engine of all sits behind a desk.

Bonus: As a crowd of us queued to enter the library this morning, a family rounded the corner on their way to the nearby farmers market and playground. Looking at the crowd, a five-year-old boy tugged at his parent’s hand: “I wish I could go to the library!” 

May 3: Today, the little boy and I switched places: He probably made his weekly visit to the library, and I visited the farmers market in Berlin, Maryland, with my sister, Dianne. Dianne, who had recently moved to a perfect home in Berlin, was in search of local honey.

We found local honey — and an enthusiastic beekeeper who regaled us with fun bee facts. Did you know that bees have 50 times more smelling power than dogs? Or that people can train bees to sniff out contraband? Or that these police bees are buzzing in airports all over the world? 

In training, the police bees are rewarded with nectar when they respond to a particular scent. In action, bees with particular scent specialties are lined up in a device, one lane per bee, with nectar just across a laser line. When the bees smell their particular contraband, they fly through the laser, which releases their reward and notifies their person that the contraband is nearby. 

The bee gets its nectar and law enforcement catches the bad guy. I don’t think law enforcement actually calls them “police bees,” but I don’t see why not. Can you imagine the cute little uniforms?

May 4: Thanks to Kevin, we have solar panels on our long ranch-style house in Falls Church. (Lots of roof area.) I just read our monthly report. Since 2015 when we installed the solar panels, we have generated more than 48 thousand kilowatts of energy and, by meeting virtually all of our own electricity needs, have avoided generating nearly 54 thousand pounds of carbon dioxide. Good for you, Kevin, for helping us make a meaningful difference to protect our planet home.

May 5: When I drive home from our vacation house near Assateague Island in Maryland, I usually listen to a book, a podcast or a baseball game. Today, though, I rolled open my sunroof, cracked my windows and cued up my “Cassie Wholeheart” playlist.

For nearly three hours, I blasted my own personal radio station. I danced like no one was watching — because no one was. I sang loudly and off key. I kept raising the volume (“Oh, I love THIS one!”) and eventually figured out that if I lowered the volume during a song’s outro, I could raise the volume every time a new song came on. Washington, D.C., traffic gave me ten extra songs. Good deal!

Bonus: In case you’re wondering, some of my Happy Songs are: 

• the Beach Boys’ “Surfin’ U.S.A.” (swimming pool games when my sons were small);
• Katrina and the Waves’ “Walking on Sunshine” (. . .  and don’t it feel good?!); 
• the Pointer Sisters’ “Jump (For My Love)” (Hugh Grant dancing like nobody’s watching in Love Actually); 
• the Foundations’ “Build Me Up Buttercup” (the world’s most cheerful breakup song?);
• Earth, Wind & Fire’s “September” (Ba-dee-ya/Never was a cloudy day);
• Bruno Mars’ “Uptown Funk” (with or without this video of Hollywood Dancing to Uptown Funk);
• the Beatles’ “Twist and Shout” (John Lennon’s scorched vocals);
• the Turtles’ “Happy Together” (the opening credits to Freaky Friday); and of course
• Simon & Garfunkel’s “The 59^th Street Bridge Song (Feeling Groovy)” (I’m talking to you, Carol Ann: slow down, you’re moving too fast, gotta make the morning last!). 

What songs would you put on your Joy playlist?

May 6: “Carol Ann!” “Tracy!” We embraced outside Nationals Park like old friends, as in a sense we were. For the previous two hours, we had hugged and high-fived our way through fifteen (15!) runs in an exhilarating 15-2 Nationals victory. We met as strangers and, heading our separate ways out of the ballpark, we parted as friends. 

I had arrived at the game uncharacteristically late, having enjoyed a curator-led tour at SAAM earlier in the evening. I finally reached my seat at the top of the fourth inning, with the Nats trailing 1-0. By the time Tracy and I caught our breath, Tracy had predicted a grand slam — which pushed the score to 14-2 in the 8^th inning — and I had seen as many runs in five innings as I’d seen in my previous 29 innings, going back to 2025. 

Hey, Tracy, for the Nationals’ sake, will you join me for my next game?

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If you’d like to browse my past delights, please consult the “word cloud” featured at the very bottom of this post. Find a theme or two that interests you and sift through the sands. Or learn a bit more about my Blog by visiting my Welcome page. You’ll also see links to four essays that were published in print magazines. I’m glad you’re here!