* I am early. The guest of honor has not arrived nor any guests. I snag women who look like they are here for the party as they walk by, coming in from the cold. They continue to come even as we settle at a table downstairs (the g of h arrives from the dentist) and we pull over tables and tables and tables until the room is at a bursting point and filled with ladies ooing and admiring THE RING.
*"At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person." How many times I have borrowed a spark!
*A water bowl sloshes with a brown cocker spaniel ear.
*T e-mails to ask if this is his sister's birthday and I plunge into memories of 29 October 1972--the wet red and yellow leaves on the early morning sidewalk on the way to the hospital, the amazement of delivery after succumbing to imaging I would be pregnant for the rest of my life, bliss.
*We drive a favorite road which runs (funny, a road running) parallel to the mountains, far out on the prairie past enormous grain silos, dodging tumble weeds.