Each night we gathered as a small group to talk about our day. It was a chance to process, which is what I do later when I blog. The immediacy was nice. It was also great hearing about each others' days. We don't take enough time as a culture to do that.
Part of the time we went around an shared "happies and crappies." I just love that way of succinctly thinking about the day. Any day.
Rather than risking breaking any confidences, I'll share my "happy and crappy" from yesterday.
I'll start with crappy: nearly running out of gas and being struck with indecision on how to fix it.
Happy: there were several, but one tied to the crappy. I made it to my usual gas station where I had a conversation with the gas station attendant. He saw my Got French bumper magnet and asked if I spoke French. I said un petit peu, the last time I admitted to speaking French to an ebony-skinned man he spoke to me in Haitian, which is akin to speaking American English and listening to someone from Scotland. This man is from Ghana. I had a lovely conversation with him about how, after 34 years in the United States, he is soon returning to Ghana.
People in the other 49 states where they have to pump their own gas can't appreciate the magic that comes from connecting with someone in that simple moment.
We are the last state where it is illegal to pump your own gas.
I hope that never changes.
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