here's to you

Tuesday night was splendid, but Wednesday morning was less than inspiring. It mainly consisted of spilling coffee on my white skirt, grumpy drivers who wouldn't let me into their turning lane club, small animals getting murdered by large vehicles in front of my very eyes, hearing of a friend lose their job, slow computers, and flash flood warnings that insighted visions of the Missouri River spreading its banks through downtown Kansas City a la Nashville.
By midafternoon, I decided that the only way to spend my evening was in my upper room reading my favorite author, Marilynne Robinson, and enjoy listening to the rain and thunder without having to feel it. I mentioned these plans to Cari, who informed me that Marilynne herself was going to be at the Kansas City Public Library and she had an extra reservation she could share with me.
Hot diggity.
Do I sound like a very boring person yet?
It's just that Marilynne wrote the most beautiful book I've ever read, Gilead, where she threw out life-changing sentences like rice at a wedding:
"Nothing true can be said about God from a posture of defense."
"Love is holy because it is like grace--the worthiness of its object is never really what matters."
"I’m writing this in part to tell you that if you ever wonder what you’ve done in your life, and everyone does wonder sooner or later, you have been God’s grace to me, a miracle, something more than a miracle."

So the clouds parted and the sun came out for a time...until I left work and the sky unleashed its temper all over me and I found that I have not a single hooded jacket or umbrella in my closet. No matter. I got a picture with Marilynne and she signed my book.