Sometimes conversations with strangers can be
intriguing—even a little mystical.
Tim and I took Honey to a neighborhood restaurantfor dinner the other night, the kind that has
tables on the sidewalk.
A few minutes after we got there, an older couple sat
at the table right behind us. As often happens, they noticed Honey and asked a
few questions about her. Then the woman asked, “Did she come from a foreign
The question took me aback. I wasn’t sure what she
meant, but people often ask about her breed, as she is a little unusual
looking. I said “No, but she’s half Chinese Shar-pei.”
“She has such soulful eyes,” the woman said. I
happen to think she does, too, so the comment made me happy.
A little later the woman asked us, “Does either of
you speak a foreign language?”
Tim and I looked at each other. Did she think
there was something foreign about us, as well as about Honey? No, we said.
“Do you know what gamache means?”
Neither of us did. Tim tried asking “Siri” on his
cell phone and came up with “come mosh.” The woman and her husband fell to
talking in low voices for a while.
Then Honey drew her attention again. “She has
eyes? I liked the idea, but this was beginning to get
Just as we were finishing our meal the woman
turned to us again. “I have to ask you this: Do you two drink coffee?”
We don’t; we’re tea drinkers. No, we said.
She turned toward her husband. “See, I told you.”
We were both having cold drinks. The waitress
hadn’t asked us if we wanted coffee. “How did you know?” I asked.
She nodded toward Honey. “She told me.”
Now I was feeling creepy. Was she making a joke? Did
she really believe our dog had told her? I couldn’t tell from her face. But
either way the fact remained that she knew we weren’t coffee drinkers. How?
The incident took me back to a weekend last fall.
We were in New York, where I had registered for an editing seminar. We were
having dinner the night before the workshop in a restaurant in a different part
of the city. A group of people at an adjacent table were laughing and talking; one
man in particular had been calling friendly remarks over to us. Eventually he came
to our table and sat down. He looked at me and said, apropos of nothing, “Are
you a book editor?”
I was floored. “How did you know that?”
He shrugged. “I’m a little psychic.”
And was the woman we met the other night? Is my dog perhaps a wise ancient
spirit? I have a slightly mystical bent, and in some ways I’d like to think
these things can happen. As Hamlet said, “There are more things in heaven and
earth than are dreamed of in your philosophy.”
Maybe psychic experiences are embedded in our
everyday lives and we just never notice them.
once again linking up with Laurel Regan’s Alphabet Salad to present my
Gratitude and Happiness List for this week.
☼ Although it’s not a “happy”
thing to have surgery coming up, I’ll be grateful to (hopefully) finally get rid
of the wrist pain I’ve had for more than a year.
☼ After being worried about our
dog Honey’s health last week (her sluggishness made us fear a possible flareup
of her old Lyme disease) and making an emergency vet appointment Saturday, her energy
suddenly returned, putting my mind greatly at ease.
☼ Being able to give Honey a
bath outside and cut off a lot of the hair that grew over the winter—she looks
like half the dog she used to be!
☼ A great and fun group of
friends and acquaintances from church, especially one couple who host a great
semi-annual “oldies” party at their home.
☼ A number of al fresco
restaurants in our area where we can take Honey and enjoy a meal in the open
☼ With warm weather finally
here, being able to open the French doors to the deck that we had installed
☼ Having fun plans for the
coming week:a dinner with girlfriends,
a lunch with friends from my old job, and an “appreciation” dinner at church
for the volunteers.
☼ Plans made and plane tickets
bought for our trip to Georgia over Father’s Day weekend to visit my father-in-law
and sister-in-law and her family.
☼ The Red Sox, after a ten-game
losing streak, now having won seven in a row, with great contributions from the
Pawtucket players we’ve seen at their stadium here—and hope that they might
finally recover some of the magic they had last year.
☼ The ASPCA and all the other
rescue groups who care for abandoned animals and help them find new homes. God
bless them all.