squashed

I’d spent my last three dollars from what began as a twenty.

Carrying bags loaded with an acorn squash, radishes, portobello mushrooms, peppers, a tri-color bean mix, and purple inside/outside potatoes, I spied a yellow Lab puppy. The young woman at the other end of the leash wash scolding Gracie for — well I’m not sure what for — while waiting in line to purchase something from a food truck.

A woman I suspect was near my age called directions of some kind across the asphalt… maybe it was her order. There was so much happening, I missed that detail, too. Whatever she called was enough for me to recognize she had a relationship to the young woman and the pup.

“She’s beautiful,” I said. “How old?”

Through a bright smile she said, “My daughter is eighteen.” We both started laughing because we both knew it was the puppy that held my attention. What a lovely little joke.

“She’s beautiful, too!” I said.

And she was… despite her frustration with the ankle biter.
I could feel her pain.

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Transitioning here with Miranda Lambert’s All Kind of Kinds…

Which… the song’s circus references remind me of a little riddle somebody recently shared:

What did people say when the midget clairvoyant ran away from the circus?

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Small medium at large.

Umm… back to the transition!
My friend Karen has been working on her memoir since 1999. She’s embraced her writing work with gusto over the last five years. I am so pleased to be witness to, and part of, her process. We’ve shared comments, emails, phone and Zoom calls. I’ve had the pleasure of participating in a couple of her focus group conversations.

I admit that sometimes when I see the care and diligence she is putting into her magnum opus, I feel small. In contrast… I zip stuff off the top of my head and ship without hardly a backwards glance.

Comparison is the thief of joy?

Karen honored our connection today in a piece called Navigating a Story Identity Crisis.
Thank you Karen.
I’m grateful to be traveling with you.