A cup of hope. I drank a cup of coffee given by a friend the other day and it was delicious. I who am so picky about the beans, the origin, the roasting times, a perfectionism that might have likely led to my toothache, which happily, is receding, found it delicious without knowing anything about it except its name, “hair of dog.”
One more month in this year. The darkening days that will soon turn light again, the host of holidays approaching, and cards to be written. And posted. Last fall I sat down meaning to send change of address cards to all my friends, but only got as far as “K.”
Let me bend with grace and reason, then, and pen some cards and notes of thanks, as we near the end of this year to soon begin another.