Dear reader, I walked into Trader Joe's this morning and for five minutes had the entire place to myself. In practically any other setting I'd congratulate myself on such good fortune, but not at Trader Joe's.
At Trader Joe's I come for the company.
I come for all the tiny old couples, with the wife dressed in cropped pants and a crisp white blouse and the husband with hair combed back, tortoise shell glasses, a patrician air.
I come for the zen types with their casual coolness and organic ways.
I come for the lady who told me how to make yogurt and her husband who insisted she jot the recipe down because he gazed into my eyes and saw the information was in peril of fading.
I come for the little old men who stand around talking about things which happened long ago.
I come for the people who work there and know me and ask about my girls.
It's good company.
In other news, the season of music camps is upon us.
I love the company here, as well. I hope my girls will have these friends for a lifetime.
Happily, I feel the same way about their parents. One of my friends came from Korea when she was a young girl, her parents making major sacrifices to start a new life in the United States. Another came from Vietnam with much the same story. There are two from Japan. It's a wonderful mix of culture and personality, and even though we come from different corners of the earth, the greatest bond between us is our common ground.
Having a chance to sit and visit together results in feeling understood, encouraged, and inspired. Also, amused: heavy on that. Just a lovely feeling, all the way around.
Plus, if we happen to be at a Vietamese restaurant, I always order the drink at the bottom of this picture, which is filled with so many delightful, unusual treats it makes me feel as if I have a bit of Wonka's factory in my cup.
I hope you are enjoying good company these days.