Today I’m grateful that my friend Heather and her brother
John are exploring one of my all-time favorite cities, Paris. It gives me a
chance to revisit the place, even if only vicariously.
Plus, I take great joy that one of my favorite people is visiting
one of my favorite places, because Heather is a real poster child for
friendship and generosity. She’s also an exemplar of civic participation,
neighborliness and curiosity. When I’m faced with the choice of trying
something new (which I think I might not really find congenial), I ask myself, “What
would Heather’s approach be to this.”
More often than not, I give it a shot.
Heather and her brother were the ones who introduced me
to several Virginia wineries on a day-long jaunt. It was such a hoot listening
to some of the pretentious spiels, especially when rattled off by 17-year-old
probably Baptist boys. We had a picnic at one of the wineries and tasted a
whole bunch of offerings.
I’m sure some of that is going on in Paris.
Once I sent one of my emails out, with a Washington Post story about the
impending closing of a, oh, a kind of institution called Blob’s Park—out in the backwoods of
Maryland, where they served German food and beer, and people danced the polka.
A day or so later, Heather emailed to ask if I wanted to go on an expedition to
Blob’s Park with her, her wife Jamie and some friends. And then there we were,
trying to follow MapQuest directions in the country darkness to this VFW-like
place, where we ended up having a ball.
One of the things that I love about Heather and John’s
trip to Paris is that they take a different approach than my other friends Dick
and Carolyn (who are currently on a trek throughout Italy): where Carolyn
plans meticulously, with military precision (including restaurant ratings, train
and bus schedules and museum hours and entry fees), to maximize the experience,
I think Heather has a general plan, but lets the details fill themselves in.
On Saturday, after they spent several hours waiting in
line to get to the top of the Eiffel Tower (selfie of the two drinking some
celebratory Champagne, with photobombers), Heather’s last Facebook update of
the day announced they were “playing with Siri (live looking for a nice place
for dinner)”.
By profession an IT program manager, Heather astounds me
with her many, many skills. She and Jamie “own” part of a cow (they get a
certain amount of milk on a regular basis from an Amish or Mennonite farm), and
they make a variety of cheeses. Years ago they started making pizzas, and I’m
here to tell you that I’m salivating just a little even thinking about them.
She grows vegetables every year and cooks with them to great effect. She
refloored part of her townhouse, using a circular saw for the hardwood portion
and a tile cutter for the rest of it.
There’s nothing she won’t take on with a sense of curiosity
and an eagerness to learn. That is amazingly inspiring. Not being neighbors with her and Jamie is one of the worst parts about living here in the Valley They Call Silicon.
So today I’m overriding my envy about someone else being
in Paris when I’m not, and just wallowing in gratitude that Heather’s having
that particular adventure, and that I’m a friend of hers.
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