notes from tuesday --

after zabar's -- where i'd gone for fresh mozzarella and basil leaves because homemade pizza and coffee beans because of course -- i sipped a cappuccino while walking home slowly. maybe i say it too much, but i don't mind: i love living in the city.

i love that we are close friends with a couple i met years ago standing in line for coffee. i love that we know our barista, know all about her young daughter -- and that our barista knows all about us. i love walking to the post office, to the park, to the wine store. i love walking everywhere. i love that we have three local grocery stores -- one for basics, one for meat, one for coffee and baguettes and cheese. i love that popping by the corner bodega for flowers is a tradition each new week.

i love this exchange, overheard from the corner table of my neighborhood coffeehouse a couple of weeks back -- two retired ladies, discussing their friend hillary, were interrupted by an eavesdropper ecstatic to talk politics. the ladies clarified that they were discussing hillary, not hillary, and he blushed and begged pardon. and thus burst forth the loveliest response from the one in navy gingham:

don't apologize for listening. that's the deal with coffeeshops.

of course, all of this is noted because i, too, was listening. and i can't help but whisper a thanks for things like bustling coffeehouses that spark, at once, conversations between strangers and feelings of familiarity, of belonging, of home.

i cherish it all more and more as the years march on and we dig our roots here deeper.