Beautiful

I've been noticing a certain intensity of bad days amongst my circles these days. Not sure if it's epidemic yet, but here's some things I've been saving for a tough day:

--walking down the street in the rain, no umbrella, I pass a big hotel with a big set of stairs recesses into the building. I'm almost right in front before I can see on to the steps, where there are perhaps a dozen junior high rhythm gymnasts, each in an emerald green leotard with a warm-up jacket overtop, hair scraped back from faces, placidly watching the rain. In their hands, each girl clutches a glittering gold hoop.
--at the dentist, it suddenly occurs to me that you don't see those white jacket-and-pants sets in stores. I asked the hygienist where they come from, and she explains to me about dental conventions, where there's a wide range of styles and price ranges to choose from. She continues working on my mouth while she speaks, then pauses and looks away for a second. "My mother was a seamstress. When she was alive, then I had some interesting uniforms."
--I climb some steep stairs with a two-year-old, who has only recently learned to operate herself on steps. She loses all nervousness for the ascent though, in her anxiety that I not be lost somewhere behind her. Yelling, "Becky? Becky?" over her shoulder, she reaches the second floor unaided for the first time ever.

Whoa-oh working together
Rr