Random moments on the art of appreciation:
To the stupid and bitter waitress in the diner who is far more fond of text messaging and grinning at her little doodad than bringing out lunch plates to people who really DO need to go back to work: quit. I'd like that. A lot.
To the customer in the same diner who shook her head, ranted loudly about Weight Watchers while ordering her turkey burger and steamed broccoli, black coffee, skim, I said SKIM, no one needs otherwise, SKIM: I had no use for your clucking and headshaking when my drippy beef cheeseburger arrived. It was divine, thank you. I did, however, appreciate God's wisdom in assigning you the text-messaging waitress who ignored your pleas for napkins when you spilled the SKIM all over your still-fat self. Didn't it go something like "Judge not, lest ye be..."
To little E, and more importantly, your parents, who have raised you and your darling brother to write prompt and personal thank you notes on your own, thank YOU. You make your aunt very proud.
To my self, for vowing to never blog about work, a big fat snort.
To Chef: the mouth, the soul, the passion. And now the laughter? Loved it. Loved every moment, every bite. Crackled and sizzled.