The ides of March, NORCAL style

The route from Montara north to Santa Rosa took me first past Here Comes The Sun Coffee Shop.  Feeling a little low on both caffeine and local flare, I pulled into the stretch of broken asphalt out front.  I asked the impossibly cheerful lady behind the counter if they sold car-cups with the store’s logo.  She crowed, No, but what a great idea!  If you had one, what kind would it be?  A bit taken aback,  I ventured, A narrow one that my hands could safely hold while driving.

Her smile widened.  She snatched the store’s business card from a tray and turned to the worktop behind her.  Before I could protest, she had taken a mug from a shelf, removed its innards, and slid the card into the space between the liner and a clear plastic outer shell.

Look! she chortled.  I got this at a wedding!  I could totally do this for the store and I am going to give you this mug to thank you for the idea!

Stunned, I looked around for a kindness to give in return.  i noticed some home-made bracelets for sale with different words hammered into metal disks strung on silk cords.  How much are these, I asked.  She clapped her hands and said that a friend of hers makes them.  I let her choose for me.  She picked JOY. How did she know?

A few hours later, my business in Santa Rosa completed, my phone’s GPS guided me to BREW where the effervescent, lovely, and incredibly smart Ellen Cox would be joining me for coffee.  As I crossed the street from the parking garage, laptop in hand, I stopped to study the coffee house.  Its adornment beckoned me.  I felt at home.  I continued forward, not sure what all of this meant, but certain only good could follow.

An hour later, Ellen talked to me of capicitors, caught me up on her mother’s trip to LA, and planned our collective outing at Fisherman’s Wharf.  I met Ellen and her mother Sharon Alberts at HI Pigeon Point nearly a year ago.  I feel like a visiting aunt, happy to hear about the higher Godly math required for her engineering degree, and the doings at the winery where she works.

Our conversation wound down as the glasses emptied.  Ellen checked her iPhone to make sure that I wouldn’t hit traffic heading south on 101.  Clear through to the Bridge, she assured me.  That’s how NORCAL measures traffic:  Ease of navigation to and over the Golden Gate Bridge.

She was right.  I made it back to Montara in record time.  As the sun sets over my Pacific, I sit down in the kitchen, tired, content, and ready for rest.

It’s the fifteenth day of the thirty-ninth month of My Year Without Complaining.  The ides of March has been good to me.  Life continues.

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