I believe in signs, mystery, and karma.
So when I took the garbage out to the alley yesterday and looked towards the heavens, I was stunned to see this:
I thought it was the neatest thing in the world and called Joe to tell him God was saying "hi" to me.
Joe, being far more pragmatic and cynical, responded: "If anyone was saying hi to you, it was probably an air traffic controller."
Later, on our way home from dinner that night, I bought roses from Jim the Flower Guy, a neighborhood staple who stands in the middle of 111th & Pulaski year-round selling bunches of flowers for $5.
When we got home, I doled out one flower to each child. The boys insisted each flower get its own "rose pot," completely separate from the others.
Remind me to introduce my kids to the word "vase." I see their SAT scores plummeting when it comes to vocabulary.
Anyway, the boys set up three flowers in the middle of our kitchen table and went to bed. Not a single rose was touching or anywhere near another. Yet when I walked by a few hours later, the roses were huddled together:
|Vase...pint glass. Same thing.|
Wishing you and yours a wonderful weekend!