all days can be rainy

It was some moment, probably in Game 4 of The Stanley Cup Finals, that caused W to say it. "You really are a silver lining girl."

I tucked that away in my little pocket of compliments.

Flattery in this vein hit strong because it had my mother written all over it. She was the single most positive-thinking person I have or will ever know. Her umbrella was always, always upside down.

Neither of these - not W's words or my mom - were on my mind at the counter in the post office, buying stamps. I wanted something different; not only my usual American flags or Mohammed Ali or the blinding gold sunflowers that reminded me of the July and August heat yet to arrive.

I settled on Dahlias.

Undecided though, on how many to buy, the clerk informed me that stamps were going up next month. "To 82 cents, she said."

She paused.  Avoided eye contact. "I'll take two sheets," I said.

It came naturally to me to add, "I still think it's pretty amazing that you can send a love letter to someone across the entire country for just 82 cents."

"Right?!" Unexpected from the expected exasperation, the clerk said she thought she would post a sign of that at her station next month (when the assumed verbal onslaughts start).

Guess W is right about me. Looking for a silver lining comes to me honestly. Easily. And how odd that I finally sat down, unplanned, to post this on my birthday. Thanks for the pennies, Mom...






Pennies from Heaven, 1936
Arthur Johnston music/Johnny Burke lyrics