Let us sing the praises of small joys, of everyday joys, of the little blessings so often missed and ignored:
— Of independent coffeehouses, in old buildings with wooden floors, with classical music playing on the CD player and young people with dreadlocks behind the counter.
— Of independent bookstores right next door, full to the roof with books, bestsellers cheek-to-jowl with obscure tomes by obscure writers, books for every taste and almost every viewpoint, and hilarious greeting cards you can’t find at Hallmark.
— Of regulars, those familiar faces that aren’t friends, really, but whose facial expressions and political views you know probably better than your friends’ expressions and views, who greet you when you arrive and share a cuppa and a story.
— Of good coffee, and good conversation, and a good start to the day.