My life flashed before my eyes today. Again. It's the second time in a month. There's a busy intersection in Woodside that we cross every day to walk the dogs. A few weeks ago, the walk signal came on. We stepped toward the crosswalk when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a driver in the car to my left glance left, tap the brakes, and gun it right (without even looking to the right.) He missed us by inches. I may have yelled something less than inspirational. Since then, even when the walk signal says "Go," I wait a beat. Today, that one little habit may have saved us - again! The walk signal came on. I paused. A split second later, a car came flying through the red light. If we'd started walking when we were supposed to, we would have been standing in the middle of the intersection. A few months ago I watched the cutest little chipmunk get hit by a car on this same street. The driver never stopped. I was convinced he was dead. He didn't move. Not an inch. ...
Last weekend we bought a bag of pears at the Pear Fair. As we were loading them into the car, Don looked at the bag and said, "There's no way we're going to eat all of these before they go bad." I looked at the same bag and thought... "We'll make a dessert and share it with our neighbors at Wine Down on Friday." Same pears. Completely different perspectives. Don saw fruit that might end up in the compost. I saw Friday night's dessert. It made me realize that's how I've always moved through life. When I discover a buttery Chardonnay, I immediately think of my mom because I know she'd love it. If I find a great restaurant, I text a friend. If I visit a museum, a winery, or a little festival that's worth the drive, I usually end up sharing it—not because I want people to know where I've been, but because I'm already thinking about who else might enjoy it. I've realized I don't just collect experiences. I collect things wo...