As I work to rebuild my blog here at Substack, I alternate between new posts and the oldies. Today, I share a classic about my local coffee shop and the owner, Karen, who takes such good care of me and mine. I scan State Street for the closest parking spot, tell Moxie I’ll be right back, and scale a giant snow bank to get to the sidewalk. I smell the scents of toasting paninis and rich, dark coffee, mingling with that of the melting snow.
Remember watching "Cheers" as a kid and Norm would walk into the bar and everybody would say, "Norm!" Does going into Boston Dreams feel like that for you? And if it does, how appropriate is the name of that place, eh?
Little rituals and small (huge) kindesses are the balm of life. Glad you have some good ones wrapping themselves around you.
Remember watching "Cheers" as a kid and Norm would walk into the bar and everybody would say, "Norm!" Does going into Boston Dreams feel like that for you? And if it does, how appropriate is the name of that place, eh?