Last night was one of those nights, the kind that makes me smile out aloud at the realization that we’re all creating core memories together. Last night reminded me of this one, eight long and short years ago. Last night, instead of our usual Friday night Shabbat, the one with the Bag O’ Burgers from the local bar, we decided to go out to another restaurant. We ate and laughed and drank and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed. We saw people we knew. There were people at whom we hollered and chased down for pleasantries, and people to whom we politely waved and then politely avoided. It is a small town, after all. We stopped by the bar to give our favorite server a hug and her usual Friday night tip. We drove home listening to old playlists we built together when our big boys were still at home and life was different. Oh, was life different. This morning, I noticed a text from a coworker. A gal from another department apparently overheard the bar staff trying to figure out how to reach a Rachael Kincaid last night; I must have dropped my license in the parking lot during our pop-in after dinner. This brave and kind colleague hopped into the fray and secured my license, volunteering to track me down. It only took her a few mutual connections, and now I am to retrieve my license from the nurses’ station Monday. Perhaps I’ll make a new friend out of this; she knows my age and weight now, after all. I love this town. I loved last night.

Staying calm

is a kind of

weapon.

– Ukrainian citizen

I find comfort in the fact that the sun comes up, each and every day… even and especially when it doesn’t feel like it.

Ukraine deserves peace (and sovereignty). Ahmaud Arbery’s family deserves rest. My single mom friends deserve a medal. My dresses deserve pockets.

I got a new dress today, and it does have pockets. It’s so good, in fact, that my other dresses may feel jealous as they hang tonight. Grateful, also, for the workshop my tiny daughter took today on how to spot fake news.

It’s not every day that 2-2-22 falls on a Twosday. It’s not every day that your twins decide not to dress alike for twin day at school. Instead, Ames and Isaiah Jane went for it and it was cuuuute.

Tonight was beef stew and Cabernet Sauvignon and sourdough from a coworker, and candles that glowed and classical music that flowed, and a merino sweatsuit in just the right shade of red. There is a feeling money cannot buy; tonight was rich.

To love where I live is a gift I can hold. It is the well from which I draw during a dry or difficult moment, but it is also the whipped cream atop a delicious day. Alaska is breathtaking, full of beauty and deep with healing. I’ve never known such settled contentment.