All That Glitters

I learned today the Korean jewelery shop has been operating in the K-Mart shopping plaza for 35 years. I've been taking watches for new batteries, bracelets for new clasps, necklaces to be shortened for 32 of those years. I've never made a valuable purchase of anything. But the service I receive always is solid gold. With a smile.

As I waited for my watch battery today, a lady came in, pulled out two string of pearls and said, " you will think this is something I bought at a dime store but it isn't. It's old and I may have worn it on my wedding day and want to keep it. But its too small. I must have been awfully skinny.Can we extend them somehow....?"

I was struck by two things.
 She knew exactly if she wore it on her wedding day or not.
 And we are all so shamed by our grubby little possessions when placed on a black velvet pad.

Dandelion wine

On lazy summer childhood days my friend and I would loll on the grass, dreaming of what we would be, how many children we would have, who (giggle) would we marry. And we would pluck nearby dandelions and hold them under our chins to check whether or not we "liked butter"!

We had no thought of deadlines, agendas, spreadsheets, pensions, bank accounts.

Just whether or not a soft yellow glow would appear on our skin.

Heady.

The Reston Farm Market opened for the season today. It is two steps and a dandelion from my front door. Its stalls bulge with strawberries, croissants, basil, goat cheese, kosher meats, flowers, lettuces, pickles, Blue Grass pickers, political booths -  a swirl of sophistication, cultures, languages, Gucci bags, tropical tans, toned bodies and fat wallets.

While in PA two weeks ago, I stopped at a little roadside stand by an Old Order Mennonite farm and bought rhubarb, raw honey, sugar peas, and asparagus that oozed fresh cuts and crumbles of soil. The lady smiling at me wore a simple long dress, sleeves rolled up, large apron and head covering. We spoke of the spring morning , the birds singing around us and the smell of the fresh manure from the Amish fields.

I'm part of both worlds and grateful for each.

But by contrast, one was bare-bones real. And as pure as the iris unfolding by her gate.

I thought it was a consultation about crown lengthening.

It turned out to be surgery.

I turned out to spend the day in bed with my new best friend vicodin.

I had just set my bowl of soup in the microwave when a colleague said " a lady is here, asking for you - shall I tell her you're at lunch?" With a sigh, I followed her knowing I couldn't do otherwise.

An Iranian lady who I had loaned a nickel so that she could finish her copying last week was waiting. Last Thursday she had a $5 bill but no more change and I told her she'd get a bucket of change in return if she used that large bill. So she most gratefully took my nickel, promising to pay me back. I waved her off, of course.

So here she was, nickel in hand, pressing it into my hand and covering mine with both of hers. "You are so kind to me always," she said, " but you really saved my day last week."

A nickel.

A bond.

Swirls Cafe was a one-man band Saturday morn. The owner/chef/server/cashier whipped up a fine mess of eggs, fried potatoes, cheese grits and sausage gravy biscuits all the while chatting with  counter customers on whether Civil War bullets were lead or cast iron, the merits of commuting, wine-tasting and of course the weather. True, his server hadn't shown up that morning, yet I had the feeling that whenever life tried to slam a door shut, his foot would always be stuck in the crack.

In the cemetery, I leaned back against the Abram and Mabel headstone, and drank in the blue sky, listening to the song sparrows converse, watching the violets gleam against the new grass. These two people loved and laughed as they built a solid place  for five children to stand. They would have loved this spring day. Dad would have said, "Come on, Mama, we're going for a drive." Work abandoned, they would have driven back-roads splendid with newly plowed fields and yellow willow trees dancing. When their eyes were full, they would return home, braidng the ordinary day with gold.