It’s funny how far you can run on toast.

My mother used to help me work the trade shows. Minneapolis. Chicago. New York. Dressed elegantly approachable, I was always so proud of her. People loved her. Still do. We fed off of the connections. To have people react to my work, my (our) stories (because the art is brimming with them) was more than filling, for the heart, soul and spirit. Each sale was filled with laughter, tears, heart-clutching empathy. I didn’t have a staff waiting to relieve us for lunch. And I’m not even sure we wanted to leave. (Get off of our feet, sure, but food, it didn’t seem that important.). I’m not certain who thought of it, or why we started, but soon we became known for it – we brought toast that we made in the morning, at home, or the hotels, and ate it cold for our lunch, or break. It was simple. Not messy. And certainly inexpensive. People were amazed how far we could go on a piece of toast. But they had no idea how far we had come, on what some would call nothing. But I, we, never thought it was nothing. We had more than anyone. We had each other. Nothing was more sustainable. And, oh, how it carried us!

Traveling around the country, the first thing my husband and I “look for” each morning, is toast. And if successful, I email my mother, and tell her – we found toast! I’m happy to report, this morning, we did indeed find it! It’s going to be a great day.

“It was the simple things that held them together, kept them strong, gave them joy.”