The sky

Today, the sky was lavender. Probably a combination of storm clouds and sunset. It was vibrant and unexpected and gorgeous. 

Virtual bookshelves

I just watched an author talk on Zoom with Curtis Sittenfeld and Roxane Gay (both of whom I adore). And like Curtis, I am in love with Roxane Gay's full-wall, wraparound, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.

So I was so excited when they started to talk about them! And then wonderfully amused when Roxane admitted that they were a virtual background... of another room in her house. With a window photoshopped in.

How amazing is that?

Also, she's building a Little Free Library in her front yard to put the galleys of all the books she's sent, and if I didn't want to be neighbors before, I definitely do, now.

Berries

I went to pick blueberries today, on purpose, and found some wild blackberries later in the day on a walk in the woods.

I always love finding them -- they feel like a secret discovery! -- and while most weren't ripe, I managed to snag a couple that were edible.

It made it feel like summer. That plus melting outdoors.

The past few days

In no particular order:

A COVID-19 friendly art show.

A walk in the woods:

Seeing the face of a friend going through town.

Good news for someone I care about very much.

Correspondence.

Ice cream.

In-person conversations from a safe distance.

Matching

I have this ridiculous pair of pants I picked up last summer in a south Georgia CVS on the way to Florida. They're bright and colorful and patterned and loungey and I don't really know how to match them. So I put a black T-shirt on top.

Today, I pulled them on with a blue shirt that I was instructed to wear for some other thing I'll probably tell you about later this week. And lo and behold, that shade of blue was in the pants, too! It matched! They looked OK!

It's really the silliest thing, but it's like it opened up a whole new world of acceptable lounge wear to me. I just kept marveling at the pants' blue stripe, thinking of the many other things I might be able to wear together.

Buttercream

I made (raspberry) buttercream frosting for the first time today. It went on top of lemon(ish) raspberry cupcakes. And most exciting of all, it was an experiment in combined recipes. I brought them to some friends and they seemed to go over well. So I'm declaring it a success!

For the birds

I was sitting outside this afternoon, watching the squirrels jump from branch to branch when I saw two winged creatures that made me smile: a hummingbird and a cardinal.

It's the second time in the past few weeks that I've seen the hummingbird, and at around the same time -- so maybe it's a regular occurrence? The cardinal makes me smile with its bright flash of red, and because it reminds me of home.

Seeing Newnan

Over the past few years, a friend and I have created what we call adventure club, where we look for interesting things to do around town. As you might imagine, that's a little harder in a pandemic. But today, we found a way.

Several of us went to see a public art exhibit, Seeing Newnan, of 17 portraits of residents taken in the town. May I just tell you: it was fabulous.

On their own, the pictures are well-done portraits on the side of buildings. But this was so much more than that.

The artist spent two years in the city, getting to know people and taking pictures. And the context for her project is really interesting; Newnan is a city of about 40,000 that's about 60 percent white; it was also the site of a neo-Nazi gathering in 2018. But as this story will tell you, the perception of the city hasn't kept pace with the population of the city. And that's where Mary Beth Meehan came in. Her website has really fabulous biographies of everyone she shot, and the context made for a really wonderful experience -- particularly, for me, in some of the placement of the portraits.

In this one, a fifth grader in her Cotillion clothes is on the side of a building she wouldn't have been allowed into in another era. And that's just one.

If you're in Atlanta, it's worth the field trip.

For me, the other thing that was so great about it was the humanness. No, I couldn't give my friends hugs, but I could walk around town with them (an acceptable distance apart) and have a picnic (same) in an empty park and share one of the only social experiences I've been able to of the pandemic.

Plus someone brought houseplants, so now there's something green (and alive!) in my house. Not shabby at all.

Friends forever

Haaaaave I mentioned I'm watching Project Runway? (Yes, yes I have.)

It's a nice distraction in the midst of ::gestures wildly:: But I guffawed recently when one of the designers -- who I happen to like quite a bit -- walked into the workroom humming a song from Saved by the Bell.

It's catchy, isn't it? You can't go wrong with Zack Attack.

(Also -- if you're looking for a wonderful novel depiction of the rockumentary, I can't say enough good things about Daisy Jones & The Six. Super refreshing read.)

Peanut butter M&Ms

Yeah, I know, there's a lot of food on here these days. What're you gonna do? It's how we're all spending a lot of our time.

Among the snacks I got to get me through quarantine was a giant bag of peanut butter M&Ms.

They've long been my favorite M&Ms because they are delicious (first of all). They remind me of a friend from high school, who would always let me borrow money to get some from the vending machine when we we stayed after school (as long as she got to eat the green ones). And the Bee's social media team has gotten in the habit of bringing all the interesting M&Ms flavors to the workroom, so they make me think of that, too.

I had a long meeting to watch today (four hours!) so I rationed a handful of peanut butter M&Ms to help me get through it. They did the trick.

Slippers

My freshman year of college, a friend got me these adorable, ridiculous Winnie the Pooh slippers. (They're not exactly like that, but giant heads are the point I'm trying to make.)

I like Pooh! They were really sweet. And I wore them very occasionally because they're juvenile and cumbersome and it's easier to slip on flip-flops or walk around barefoot. Y'know?

But in working from home -- windows open, a cool breeze -- I have worn them so much more than I used to. And they are snug and warm and I see a giant yellow head every time I stretch my legs. So great.

Such a Millennial

Why have I never thought of this before?

Also, a delicious roasted cauliflower dish from a recipe sent by a friend.

For the birds

A receipt from the olden days, when you used to go to restaurants and eat food, that had the server's name on it. His last name was Cockatiel. I don't know if it was real or make-believe, but it made me smile.

Cavaliers

Cleveland sports teams, historically, collapse. There is a laundry list of moments where one team or another had victory in its grasp, only to collapse spectacularly and leave fans -- and a city -- heartbroken.

Then, in 2016, the Cavaliers won the NBA championship. And whatever words I use to tell you how amazing that was will be insufficient. It was a moment of joy I honestly never thought I would experience. You may think I'm crazy, but if you're from Cleveland, you understand.

I had saved the final game of the series on my DVR and would watch it when I was having a bad day -- as a reminder of that moment and a reminder that what is in front of you is not necessarily forever.

I know I'm not the only one, but it definitely made me smile today to see that in action in my Twitter feed, where someone posted the final seconds of the game and the ensuing celebration.

Oh, it lifts my mood and makes me smile. And as so many people are missing sports right now -- for the sports themselves, for the connections they create, for so many other reasons -- I was so glad to see 30 seconds of a four-year-old basketball game. Happier than I would have expected such a thing to make me.

Runway

I've been watching episode after episode of Project Runway, which is an excellent distraction from, you know, the world.

Tonight I finished season nine (and no, I did not start from the beginning). But I paused it midway through the finale to Google the woman who eventually became the winner, Anya Ayoung-Chee, because of an off-hand comment one of her brothers made during the family-visit-check-in.

He mentioned that people used to tell him how beautiful his sister is, but now they comment on her talent, too. I thought it was strange. She is pretty. But would people really stop you to tell you that your sister is gorgeous, they same way they would if she was a talented designer on a TV show?

Turns out the answer is probably yes if your sister is Miss Trinidad and Tobago and a contestant in the Miss Universe pageant. So.

It made the earlier comments from some of the (jealous) designers make more sense, too. But I was super impressed by her and amused to know more about her background. Plus, it looks like she's still designing clothes! The season eight winner is now a consultant. Bleh.

I did not realize

That it's been this long since an update.

But over the past several months, I've noticed hearts. On telephone poles.

They're roughly the size of a piece of bread and tacked up, seemingly at random, around Atlanta. Sometimes I zoom past them, and sometimes I inch closer to them as I'm stuck in traffic.

They make me smile every time I notice a new one. So I'm sharing with you.

Today, 10:30 a.m.

A white-haired man driving by in a red convertible, top down, the seat next to him covered in a bouquet of bright flowers.

Today so far

This morning, here's what made me smile:

On the radio: "It is Friday. That's when we bust out the Tom Jones."

From the corner of my eye, I saw what I thought was a zebra on my morning commute. Atlanta has a history of zebras, so while surprising, this wouldn't have been unusual -- well, less unusual than a mountain lion. Turns out it was a Hummer painted like a zebra. Which was still pretty great.

And then, a middle-aged man riding a bicycle with a basket, wearing a reflective crossing-guard vest.

(As an added bonus, there was also a man on the sidewalk in a bright pink leg cast. I felt a little bit bad for the cast itself, but love that he chose bright pink.)

Memories

It's Nov. 1, which means everyone who didn't want to keep their Halloween candy has kindly brought it into the office for the rest of us to eat.

This is a strange leap, perhaps, from Halloween, but the candy on the table -- a lone packet of SweeTarts, in the midst of Tootsie Rolls and Tootsie Pops -- has made me nostalgic. In fact, I always get nostalgic when I eat SweeTarts.

When I was in high school, one of my best friends would always buy a long roll of the sugary, colorful candy. They would get passed around orchestra, and we'd put down our bows to pop SweeTarts onto our stands and into our mouths. I don't know that it was ever codified that SweeTarts would arrive on a daily basis in orchestra, but they always did -- even on concert nights, when we were all dressed in skirts and suit pants, and we needed to be much more subtle as we passed the candy around.

I always liked SweeTarts.

I stopped eating them, though, my sophomore year of high school. My friend -- his name is Josh -- was diagnosed with cancer. He died that same week.

I know this is a blog about things that make me smile, and that doesn't sound like something very happy at all. And it isn't. But here's what is: whenever I see SweeTarts I think of Josh. I have to eat them in his memory. I smile as I reminisce about him passing them around orchestra. The candy makes me think of throwing snowballs at stop signs while we waited for the bus, or of movie nights in his basement. It makes me recall his big smile and his infectious laugh and the first time someone called me and launched into conversation without first identifying who was talking. SweeTarts were hard for me to eat for a long time. But now they bring back good memories.

So I'm sitting at my desk, popping SweeTarts, and thinking of Josh. And the fact that so many years later, this little candy can bring back such vivid memories of a person who meant so much to me really does make me smile.

Saturday