Unexpected Moments of Grace

I haven't blogged about it because who wants to hear more complaining, but it has been sooooo hot this summer. The usual afternoon thunderstorms that cool us off a bit have been missing this year and the evenings are almost just as uncomfortable as the days. Opening a window at night offers no respite. In fact, for the first two weeks after I moved into my house I slept in living room (on the first floor) partly because I couldn't stand the temperature in the bedroom (on the second floor).

So why am I talking about it now? Because this morning I opened the front door to go outside and it was chilly!! It was foggy and damp and reminded me of my home town of San Francisco. The entire street in "soft-focus"; so beautiful. Words cannot describe how happy I am.

The Washington Post tells me that the Weekly World News is folding! Without its willingness to report on what no one else is willing to touch, how is a girl to stay informed about the comings and goings of Batboy? Or of Elvis? How will I know when another biblical story has recently been proven true? How are the Men in Black going to keep track of all our alien visitors?

You may think that I'm mocking but I am sincerely saddened. It's not that I usually trusted the stories that graced its pages (ok, never) but I could count on it to always be there, amazing me with its creativity.

Ok, it really was just SPAM, advertising some company which I've never heard of.

But the subject line of the email read:

Three days later, however, he woke up and asked, "Why am I not dead?"

Any spam that can make me laugh as that one did is welcome in my inbox.

I was at the airport flying back from General Assembly, tired.  It seems to me that whenever I fly nowadays something always goes wrong - a plane is delayed for whatever the reason.  If it's not weather, it's mechanical.  I don't remember it being like that.  I just want to get home.

Today it is weather in DC from the morning that has delayed this afternoon flight.  Not in the best of moods, I decided to treat myself to a slice of cheesecake.  One of the airport stands had specialty cheesecakes of different flavors.  I went for the cinnamon apple with a layer of real, thinly sliced of apple on the top, like an apple tartin, but with cheesecake.  How decadent is that?

The woman behind the counter was talking to a friend on the other side of the glass. She talked while she helped the two customers in line before me, barely looking at them, her actions clearly slowed by the conversation.  I am usually patient about such things but I was tired and thus impatient and thus annoyed.  She asked me what I wanted, still talking, barely looking at me, and reached into the case to get my order, barely looking at the pastries. Her hand paused at the smaller piece that was closer to her reach, then moved further into the case to grab the considerably larger slice.  And then she took my money and handed the cake to me, still in conversation, as if she couldn't care less.

I was considerably less grumpy, of course.  But also curious.  Her mind seemed clearly elsewhere, but something was still present enough to notice and to go the extra two inches to make a stranger's life a little sweeter.