Doves and fennel seeds .

A blogging friend sits , she says , and in the other room her husband is making cooing noises .
There is a Mourning dove that comes to the window sill of their locked down New York apartment . He and the dove chat in their language then both go back to their respective lives .

I was walking along and a surly looking man appeared in the opposite direction . I crossed over and we came closer , each in separate " lanes ".
He glared at me .
I glared at him .
Then on impulse I grinned and gave him a thumbs up His face split into a broad grin and he gave me a very vigorous wave . We grinned until we passed each other .


In the supermarket I stood by the herbs and spices . An asian man stood at the other end .
This  time they had curry leaves .
" Aah " I said delightedly as my hand shot out to claim the little jar ."
" Oh ",  said the asian man " you got what you wanted ".
"What did you want ?" I said .
 "Fennel seeds " he said sadly .
I looked  along the racks at my end " They're here "I said and pointed to a couple of jars that were left . His face lit up and I left him to claim his prize .


On MiSoul radio ( a digital station specializing in soul music ) one of my favourite DJ's says he will play his favourite down load  that we have all fallen for .

Across Twitter and Facebook people announce to him their intention to dance in their kitchens .

Wailing raunchy sax ensues and there we are all singing with Norma Jean Bell " I'm the biggest bitch in the room ".
We all felt better for that .


There isn't enough ham for two so I open a small tin of salmon for the saxophonist's baguette .
Mayo , cucumber and lettuce are introduced and I hope he won't moan about the substitute .
" I did enjoy that " he says  .

Inconsequential specks of satisfaction but enough to keep the traction going .