The sweetest spring bulbs from a lunchtime trip to Trader Joe’s. 

One of countless whimsical clocks at the hospital where we went tonight for another MRI. This appointment was the better part of four hours, so I wandered around, got a soda in the cafe, sat in the chapel. An older woman was working the radiology desk and I absolutely loved her. She felt very grandmother-ish. She made a point of checking on me, referring to me as “baby.” “Baby, can I get you anything?” “You still doin’ okay, baby?” Normally terms of endearment from strangers bother me, but she was so wonderful. Evidently it was her unenviable task to put all of Drew’s x-ray, CT and MRI scans (two visits worth) on CDs for us after his appointment. She apologized again and again when she gave us the news that this process would take thirty additional minutes. Oh, crud. I wanted to cry, but I hid it from her. Fifteen minutes later, she put  three CDs in my hand and gave me a big hug. She said, “I just put my hands on that machine and said, “Lawd, we need a miracle here. They’s been sittin’ here all day and I just want to get them home. Please, Lawd, make this machine go fast… And just look what happened.” Yes, just look what happened. Thank you so much.