Yesterday we drove to a little seaside village for lunch. The restaurants were still filled with the breakfast crowd, so we strolled the streets. Within steps of the first store, a delicious waft cartooned its way toward us, hooking and reeling us into Monsieur Praline. The roasting of the nuts was simply too much for our wallets to bear, and we purchased a container before finishing the samples in hand. I loved the packaging. The logo. The sack. The taste. Never had a nut been so delicious! With one foot out the door, I broke the seal on the container. Holding and reading the sack, Dominique said, “Oh, we have one of these in Aix.” 

I suppose it’s often harder to see what’s right in front of us. Maybe it’s why I paint. Why I write. To try and capture all things so gloriously special. It forces me to keep my eyes and heart open. 

Many years ago, (and I haven’t missed a day) when I first started writing this blog, my mom and I were talking about one of these special days. It was what some might label ordinary, but it meant so much to us. Delighting in this one day, she said, “And just think how many days we’ve been alive — that’s a lot of special!” 

A lot of special indeed! And it keeps happening. Oh, I get distracted at times for sure. Blinded by minor problems. But then life, with all of its roasting, shakes me up and gives me a “Look at this! Right here!” And it becomes so clear, never has a day been so delicious!