1. On Wednesday, the cap came off a bottle of salad dressing I had in my satchel to take to work. It left about a cup of liquid there. When I took it out of the bag, it dripped all over my desk and the papers on it. It dripped on the office rug as I put it in the trash. My office smelled like vinaigrette all day.
Wrong way to start the day.
2. That evening while Peter was hammering a nail into one side of a kitchen column to hang a small work of art (a birthday gift from a friend), a ceramic clock I treasure flew off the other side of the column and shattered on our granite counter.
Wrong way to end the day.
3. The next morning Peter and I had bickered over the following by 8:30 a.m.:
a. How much the bulletin board that had been below the shattered clock should be raised.
b. Why I dimmed the light in the kitchen
c. What strategy we should use to park the car
Another bad start.
Then I got the following email from my daughter-in-law:
Grady (our two-year old grandson) is reading a cookbook—as you know, anything will do. He came across a picture of a roast chicken (which looks like a turkey) and said "Grammy makes that! Grammy makes that!"
Just to let you know that memories of Thanksgiving still linger with him.
Have a great day."
And thanks to that email, I did.