Put A Pin In It
Little Things: Big Impact
“I love your pin,” the cashier at our local grocery store said this past December as she rang up my bananas and scanned my tater tots.
I thanked her and leaned across the counter dividing us so she could take a closer look.
The pin is a mother-of-pearl rectangle about an inch high and an inch and a half wide. It’s a Russian winter scene hand painted in silvers and blues, signed by the artist and set in a sterling filigree border. I’d gotten it from a dealer at the antique mall where I have a booth and pinned it to one of my fleecy winter vests.
I liked it well enough, but didn’t have any special attachment to it.
A few weeks later, I was buying groceries again and went through the same cashier’s line.
Again, she commented on the pin. “It’s so different,” she said. “I just love it.”
I came home, put my groceries away, then looked at my receipt and discovered that my cashier’s name was Kathy.
So I pulled out my best stationery and wrote a short note. Something to the effect of I always appreciate your smile and your good humor. With gratitude… Ami.
Then I put the card in an envelope, tucked the pin inside, and went back to our grocery store where I dropped it off “for Kathy” at the service desk.
The next time I saw her, she had the pin on her store vest.
She has worn it ever since.
Yesterday, when I checked out, I indicated it and said, “I’m so glad you’re wearing it.”
She lit up. “Oh!” she said. “It’s you!”
Then—
She reached under her counter and pulled out the small tote bag that was her purse. There, in a clear plastic pocket was the note I had written her.
“You have no idea how much you made my day,” Kathy said. “I just couldn’t get over it. It was the nicest thing…”
She asked me my name and wrote it down, practically glowing with happiness.
We met as strangers.
We parted as friends.
In December, I’d thought the pin was my gift to her.
Turns out, the note of appreciation meant even more.
In case you didn’t know it, Dear Reader, I appreciate you enormously. Too often, writing is like shouting into the void. It’s incredibly gratifying to have you here in the void with me!
Who do you appreciate? Who makes your day happier, easier to navigate, more manageable?
I challenge you to write a note of appreciation and let them know how much they brighten your life. (If you accept my challenge, drop a note in the comments and let me know!)
Podcast Niftiness
Special shoutouts of thanks to Brie Shouppe of Narratives and Nightcaps for featuring me on her podcast.
We chatted about the inspiration for Dear Alderone, the creative joys of writing, and the absolute roller coaster ride that is involved in writing and revising a book over a period of years before it finally comes to fruition.
Recent Reads
My most recent Discworld adventure was Interesting Times, Pratchett’s masterful foray into the art of war with additional musings on the rise and fall of empires, what happens when heroes grow old, the vagaries of fate, and the dangers of relying on technology we don’t fully understand.
This, the 18th Discworld book, brings back Rincewind, the bumbling “wizzard” who excels only at running away and staying alive and Two Flower, the intrepid endlessly optimistic tourist from the start of the series.
And The Luggage. You can’t forget The Luggage.*
Interesting Times is incredibly tightly plotted, with seemingly throw-away sentences early in the narrative returning later to enjoy their time in the spotlight, and maybe a dance number. It is glorious. I dare you to read it without laughing OUT LOUD loudly enough to startle the unsuspecting person next to you. Dare. You.
I also read DISHOOM. Yes, it’s a cookbook. Yes, it’s enormous. Yes, I read it cover to cover.
No, that’s not weird. I promise.
DISHOOM is a love-letter to Bombay: part history, part walking tour, part mythos — all food. [In case you’re wondering, the word “dishoom,” is the sound made by Indian comic book heroes when they punch something… Sort of like the English “BAM!” or “Pow!” or “KaBLAM!”] Written by the creators of the UK restaurant Dishoom, it is one of the most satisfying reads I’ve had in a long while.
(Also, I cannot wait to cook my way through the book.)
((Also also, I now have “eat at each of the Dishoom restaurants” on my List-Of-Things-I-Want-To-Do.))
In addition to the mouthwatering recipes and learning SO MUCH about Bombay, (including approximately 243 things I want to read more about), the thing I loved most about the cookbook was the incandescent, confident uniqueness of it. From the quirky fold-out map inside the front cover to the self-assured second-person POV of the narrative, it is both incredibly readable and refreshingly different.
I could eat it with a spoon.
Critter Update
This Spring has seen a lot of hawk activity that has decimated my little chicken flock. We lost two in a single day. RIP my poor hens.
I was down to a ragtag fugitive flock of: 1 extremely loud Guinea hen, 1 lone laying hen, 1 annoying mini-rooster, and 1 crippled Pekin duck (the result of someone who got baby ducks and didn’t understand the critical importance of an adequate amount of niacin in their diet, so they gave it to me…but the damage had already been done. ::sigh::).
So, thanks to that pesky Circle of Life (cue the Lion King soundtrack) it was time to replenish.
Are they not divine!?
‘Tis also the time of year when the house wrens return to build another nest under the porch eaves.
I spend most of my summer mornings on my porch swing (oh, the hardships of working from home!) and love to watch the busy birds at work. This is the sixth or seventh year they’ve built there. Sometimes the parent birds will hang out with me on the swing chain while they sing to me about the joys of meaningful labor.
I Wish For You…
This weekend, my kid graduates from college. HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?! HOW!?
I am ridiculously proud of them and cannot wait for them to embark on the next part of their life adventure.
Yesterday, while walking the Corgi Crew, I found the first four-leaf clover of the year. (I find them all the time. It’s my one weird superpower.)
True to form, Sawyer, of course, tried to eat it.
My wish for you is that you hear from the ones who are proud of you. And from those who appreciate you. And that you, too, find work that has real meaning. And that you enjoy the serendipity of good luck.
Blessings,
Ami
* Though you can try… just as you can try to forget all of your most fearsome nighmares. You simply won’t succeed.
Now I want to read that cook book LOL! How is your child graduating? WOW