Month: December 2022

Complimentary Coffee

I was traveling today, and the most marvelous thing happened—a small gesture, but the small things in life are the best.

Let’s back up a moment. I was driving along this morning down the interstate. It was a fantastic morning. The traffic was light, almost non-existent even. The sky was making its way from night to day. Dawn, and sunrise, would be here in a moment. The only problem I had, which was significant, was that my travel coffee cup was empty.

Luckily, it was easily solved.

I pulled off at a service plaza—I like these because they are quick and easy. In I went and instantly found the coffee. I used my own mug, of course. I headed to the front to pay to be on my way. I didn’t want to miss the sunrise.

The cashier, wonderfully pleasant, looked at me and asked, “refill only?” I said, “yup!” in a cheery voice as I pulled out my credit card.

She looked at me, said “Have a great morning,” and waved me away. I just stopped and looked at her… I couldn’t believe my luck! I said thank you, more than once, and bounded out the door.

Back in the car, I continued down the still-empty interstate and enjoyed the sun as it broke the horizon. It was a glorious sunrise and made even more so by the complimentary coffee.

It was a small gesture for her, but it meant a ton to me. Her kindness snowballed into my joy and made my already wonderful morning incredible.

Thank you. Thank you so very much

Snoring Cat

The day is warm and sunny, with “warm” being relative to December. Still, it’s a nice day, and the sun is streaming in the window. You would think it was a peaceful day, and it would be, except for the snoring cat.

The cat is in the window, enjoying the sunlight and losing his battle to sleep. He nods off, and that’s when the trouble begins. His first snores are quiet, barely audible, and easily lost in the silence of the room. This is not a problem. It’s cute and charming, and it makes me happy to know how content he is.

But then, he gets more comfortable. And now… now the loud snores come out. Snores that cannot be ignored, although, amazingly, are still cute. If I am on the phone, the person on the other end might ask me if I am OK or have a breathing problem. I don’t. The cat does, I patiently explain. The snoring cat continues, oblivious, and I think about ordering more earplugs from Amazon.

But I can’t. I still like the sounds of the snores, for it means the cat is happier and more content than a moment ago. His idea of a perfect afternoon is basking away in the sun. I genuinely think he has the right of it.

I could, of course, wake him up. But I can’t bring myself to do it, and despite my light kvetching, I am disappointed when he stops snoring.

So I write this as his snores increase, drowning out the jet airplane overhead. Sooner or later he will wake himself up, usually with a start, because his snoring is too loud, even for him. I just look over at him, relieved I didn’t have to make the decision to wake him up or not.

We should all have such problems.

It is with the best of intentions

I really have them. I do a post, then figure I’ll come back in a few days for another one. But the day turns into weeks, months and years. I’m under a year since the last post, so I’m doing good in that department. But time slips away from me, so quickly.

So what’s happened in the year? Nothing. Everything. The timeless bubble of COVID-19 has gradually slipped away as we’ve decided the pandemic is over. It isn’t, of course, but we’ve collectively decided it is. Or at least, most of us. Masks are creeping back, slowly, but COVID is still there waiting for us. It is all a blur, regardless, and time slips away. The clock’s ticking is loud, isn’t it?

As I write this, the days still continue to grow shorter, and the bluster of winter is here. Technically, winter itself isn’t, but it let’s count it as winter anyway. Despite that, though, the promise that in just a few short weeks the days will reverse course and grow longer makes it seem like we are turning a corner into next year. We are. It’s just hard to see sometimes.

And maybe, just maybe, it won’t take me a year to do another post. Time slips away.