Could there be any such thing as an ordinary day? That may depend on how a person regards 'ordinary.' So when I go early to a local garden center, thinking about possible plantings for my patio (not an ordinary phrase!), I wander through greenery observed by a store clerk who is watering greens around me. "I like the color of your hair," he says out of the blue with a smile. "What color is it?" I reply in a teasing mode. "Burgundy," he tells me.
A win for spontaneity perhaps.
And leaving another more distant garden center with friends, I witness them arguing in the car over whose memory of the site where the wife had recently found herself rear ended on a highway that ended the life of their other secondhand car. Neither would give in to the other though both were involved, the husband arriving on site later after a few frustrating conversations with 911 and his wife about the name of the place. The wife had thought her directions to him to come to a certain plaza was the correct name, when it turns out (or seems to have been) she was mistaken. The only way the couple could connect physically that day was by having the wife's daughter several hundred miles away trace the accident scene (and her mother's not totaled car) on an iPhone and send the photo to the husband.
This sleight of hand is taken for granted as a common sense solution in these confusing times.
At the garden center itself, we three had met a woman loading into her car a substantially heavy cypresss - "a native," said the woman, noticing our interest. Her car was parked in the loading zone where I stood by my new purchases on another trolley . She couldn't be stopped from giving us more information about the deliciously graceful looking green plant. There was no stopping her. She was no longer working professionally, she said, though she was 'a master gardener, ' thereby all-knowing about such things. An entire education for us, freely procured, in only ten minutes time.
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