a few little loves

There’s still something quite exciting about Fridays.

In our house, Fridays are normally the last day of the weekend. Danny has Thursdays and Fridays off so he’s in the busy din of Saturday night at the restaurant. For months, we went into Seattle every Friday. We met friends at playgrounds, lingered over lunch somewhere, and shopped at all our favorite markets. By the time we drove onto the ferry, we were bedraggled by the darkness after a long day, with a wide-awake kid in the back seat. Those were the long days of summer.

Now, we’re staying on the island more and more. Lately, Danny has been working Fridays too, so he only has one day off. We’d rather push Lu in the swing at the playground, then meander over to the library for some reading of Knuffle Bunny, than rush to the ferry again. After years of running, we’re walking slowly these days.

Fridays are now the middle of the week, any other ordinary day.

However, after years of being in school, waiting for the clock to tick its way to 3, I still love Fridays. I remember the years of being a teacher, listening to the gathering gabble of teenagers chattering early Friday afternoon. That happy noise rose and roared until the students rushed out the doors, leaving silence behind. It used to be that my happiest moment of the week was Friday at 4 pm.

Now, even though Friday is no longer the end of my week, I have been thinking about some of the little things that have brought me happiness this week. I thought I’d share them with you.

This video of a murmuration of starlings left me breathless for a moment or two.

I’m dying to try this wafu dressing on any salad soon. (Thanks to 101 Cookbooks for the link.)

My friend Molly always wakes me up with her memory of quiet moments.

This video of the triumph of an unexpected basketball player had both Danny and me in tears.

I had a little moment of chaotic happiness when I watched these two helping me to make a cake.

Claire Diaz-Ortiz is trying to make Twitter for Good, instead of the silly frippery it often ends up becoming.

Now I want to learn how to make dosas.

Carol Blymire went foraging with Hank Shaw. I wish I could have been there.

Every word written by Pema Chodron.

Also, we love Smarty Bars in this house. These are little nuggets of powerful foods: quinoa, gluten-free oats, walnuts, and banana or apricot. They’re simple. They’re tasty. They’re amazing toddler snacks when the kid is starting to stray into the land of hungry-grumpy. And almost every flight I took this summer was fueled by these bites. These are good. We think you’ll like them too.

Finally, for a Friday, a poem by Mary Oliver that has been ringing in my mind all this morning.

Praying

It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.

I hope that this Friday is a rushing roar of happiness for you, then a chance to feel quietly thankful.