Three beautiful things from the past week:

1. A buttery quarter of a baguette hot from the toaster and a large mug of hot tea.

2. Making macarons (over a two-week period) reminds Rudi and me of Paris cafes. Our inaugural try at making them includes pink meringue cookies and vanilla flavoring.

3. Rebecca’s surgery went with flying colors and she’s now resting at home. Her husband, Rick, has been great at keeping those of us far away updated with phone calls and daily emails.

Sorry for the blog silence. We’re having connectivity woes at home and I was sick yesterday.

As I play catch-up on some other posts, I give you three beautiful things from my week to think about:

1. UConn handily advances to the Sweet Sixteen with a trouncing of Florida. Berkeley is our next opponent, but I don’t envision as easy a win.

2. Qualcomm has bought out every billboard at Metro Center. Every time I enter or leave the station, I’m reminded of Grey Kitten. I think it’s nice of his employer to do that for me.

3. On Sunday, Rudi went off for his first long ride of the year, so after I hit the farmers’ market, I headed to Georgetown to spend the day by myself. The sky was blue and the sun was warming, so first I laid by the canal, then later moved down to the bank of the Potomac for a nap. Although by the time I rose to head home I needed a shawl, for a while I had bare toes.

The powers of collective thought are strong, so I’m hoping you’ll all do me a favor. Tomorrow morning, my friend Rebecca is having surgery. If you could keep her in your thoughts and send healing vibes and prayers toward Washington state, I’d be grateful.

I made it to work early and then got to leave on time, too. I have knit the top of a sock cuff for Sock Madness and finished the toe of my spring socks in time to wear them tomorrow.

Three beautiful things from the past week:

1. As I drive home from the Homespun Yarn Party on the beltway, I pass an old-fashioned fire truck heading home to Hyattsville. There is no cab, so the poor firefighter is out in the damp weather, his rain coat pulled up over his head to keep away the elements.

2. Elspeth, Erik, and Julia all share good news. One has secured a coveted summer position in Russia and several acceptance letters for grad school next fall. Another has a new job. And the third has seen one of those we-missed-in-the-night notes for which he is the intended target.

3. Rudi and I headed to Virginia tonight to catch an early evening showing of The Tale of Despereaux at Arlington Cinema ‘n’ Drafthouse on their $1 ticket night. The food was tasty. The movie was sweet. The theater clapped at the end of the show. And the kids watching with us were awesome. Five minutes into the movie, the narrator is still setting the scene. “Where’s Despereaux?” asks one voice. Others also chatter to the screen through the show. And our way back to the parking lot, we pass a mom and her two little girls. “He saved the princess!” “He was a nice mouse!” It was great to see a kids’ movie with its intended audience.

Three beautiful things from the past week:

1. Last night as I walked from a chocolate shop to the grocery store, I passed by two couples, still dressed in their business attire. The men strode ahead, but the women lagged a bit behind. Suddenly their arms went around each other’s shoulders and they began skipping. Their giggles and the clickety-clacking of their heels against the sidewalk carried over the night’s blustery wind.

2. Macy’s window displays have changed to spring outfits. One mannequin wears a flouncy, floral skirt over piles of crinolines. I want a crinoline and wonder where I could wear it to justify the purchase. (I think this revelation may surprise everyone who knows me in real life.)

3. Two unexceptional-looking people, probably close to my mother’s age, stand against the wall outside Metro Center. The man leans in close to zip up the woman’s coat a bit more and give her a gentle kiss.

Three beautiful things from the past week:

1. Our brilliant friend Michael found out this week that he was one of the winners of the Emerging Voices Playwright Competition. His scene “Maybe,” part of his larger The Quick Brown Fox Jumped over the Lazy Dogs, deals with all that two words can — and can’t — say. While this was not the best staging I’ve seen of his work, the Lincoln Theater was a posh setting for it, and Michael well deserved the honor.

2. As I was hoofing it up to U Street this evening, I passed some elementary school kids getting out of their afterschool program. The eldest was probably in sixth grade, but the youngest was a bitsy little thing, possibly pre-K aged. When the kids decided to race from one end of the block to the other, the older kids had the best advantage, of course. The tiny girl gave it her all, though, dragging her pink Elmo rolly bag behind her, her stripey hat’s huge pompom bopping with each step.

3. Dark tree branches underline the snow as if to remind us, this is what’s important. This is what’s important. This is what’s important!

I think being an adult is mostly about the duality of time. Simultaneously you’re slogging through the minutia of daily life — getting the kids fed, going to work, paying bills — and watching as events whirl past in a dizzying frenzy — wasn’t it just Christmas? How have I not seen our friends since the Inauguration?

This episode of Three Beautiful Things has been brought to you by Philosophy, The Study of Life™:

1. As I get dressed this morning, I am reminded of a comment by my previous boss. A fan of reality tv shows, she and some other coworkers mused that I would make a great contestant on one of those what-not-to-wear shows because I would tell the host where to get off. Today’s unique outfit: my old brown plaid skirt, a yellow pullover, orange socks, and my pink roll-brim hat.

2. The flower man added a number of stems of freesia to the bouquet I made on Sunday. “They smell wonderful. I hope you won’t mind if I make you take home a few more stems.” They opened last night and sniffing them takes you to an old-fashioned dance, set by the water, à la Houseboat.

3. Rudi and I were watching the news when the reporter mentioned that police were canvassing an area. As politicos, we were more used to the verb being used in a sense of door-knocking for the purpose of vote getting. Interested in the word, we turned out our dictionaries — his online and my old hard-cover — seeking its origins.

While I do not dispute the perks of having a dictionary always at your fingertips, there’s something about having one where seeking one word can lead you to a nosegay of unrelated ones. In addition to learning more about “canvass,” we also gleaned capapie, captious, and carrefour from my trip into the “c” tab.