Walking through the Pittsburgh airport, on my way to my gate, I saw someone I knew, though I couldn’t place him. As we passed each other, I smiled in an acquaintance acknowledging sort of smile. When he did not smile back, I was briefly and mildly offended, until I realized that he did not know me, because he was Eric Clapton, and I was me.

He had fooled me by being all by himself, and carrying his own guitar- looking very much an ordinary (and familiar) guy. I didn’t have an opportunity to train him, however.

Hooray for you & your hubby’s schmoopiness.

Or do you just have a Google Alert for every pithy thing you’ve ever written? ‘Cause that would be a great many Google Alerts. A great many.

I’ve revisited that comment of yours easily a dozen times since I first read it and thought how very clearly it cut to the heart of what’s so life-enhancing about a great partnership — or at least about the partnership I’m lucky enough to have found. I know not all marriages or partnerships are like that, but it’s the only kind for me and every single day I am amazed that I have it — that I have him.

(Now mine should come home so I can give him a big smooch.)

… stepped on my satiny hem, tripped, and fell hard, at which point I was yanked out of sleep by a hypnic jerk.