May 2017

In my nine years in Seattle, I have never experienced a Memorial Day weekend quite like this past one. You see, summer usually starts in, oh, August. We might get a week of sunshine here or there in the spring, but Memorial Day weather has never been anything remarkable. Until this past weekend. 85 degrees and sunny. EVERY DAY OF THE WEEKEND.

It was a blast. We grilled two of the three nights; had friends visiting from SF; saw pals who have a babe a week older than W; sat in the sun; went to a BBQ (Sarah’s backyard is incredible right now); and got to taste homemade pizza. 

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I’ve been thinking a lot about people lately. No, too broad. I’ve been thinking a lot about strangers recently. Yes, strangers. There’s something about a random interaction with a stranger that can sometimes light up my day.

Take the lady at the Dry Cleaners last week. I was cracking up at the fact that she was in a down coat, and a summer dress. I was jealous of the down coat because I left any sort of cardigan of mine at home… and was left in a sundress.

Or, my the woman who cuts my hair. I ADORE her. I see her once, maybe twice a year. But it feels like we’re old pals.

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