Lost in Translation: Flora Edition
frangipani (fran-jih-PAN-ee)
n. these BEAUTIFUL trees that are flowering right now. Seriously, the blossoms are so perfect, they look like they should be made of sugar and belong on a wedding cake. You'd have to see to believe. And the smell. Oh, the smell. Divine.
"When ever I walk under the frangipani tree on my way to the shops, I pick up a blossom that has fallen and put it in my hair."

You're Majoring in a 5000-Year-Old Dead Language?
I was looking up dead languages yesterday and discovered the Rosetta Project, an attempted archive of all documented human languages. And through that, I discovered that there is an old Australian language called Manda. How ridiculously coincidental is that? (I think it's a sign. COME VISIT!)

Oh, and bonus points if you recognized the movie from the header.

Love is a Safety Pin
I have a tendency to have at least one safety pin on or near me at all times. Reason being that I allow my paranoia to work for me instead of against me. I would have made a great girl scout. I'm prepared. (Or is that just the boy scouts? Anyway...) So, I've never had my pants split wide open in a moment of devestating embarrassment, but should it ever happen, I'll be quick to pin it back together with the safety pin that is attached to the strap of my purse... or the one that's pinned inside the pocket of my hoodie... or the one that I always put back in the pocket of my jeans.

So this morning we were on the train, and a lady sat down across from us. Her nametag said "Lesley". She was an older woman, probably late 50's. Her short, grey hair was wet; half was slicked back, the other half was going every which way. She sat down and started reading her book not looking particularly happy.

After a while I glanced up and noticed that the flesh of her tummy was showing. I thought maybe her blouse was one of those which has the buttons just a little too far apart and have a tendency to gape in the most inconvenient places. After a bit, she tugged the shirt down to straighten it out, and I saw that the problem was due to a missing button. She would smooth the fabric out every now and then, leading me to believe that she was aware that the button was gone.

We were nearing our stop, and I pinched the pin off my purse strap. As the train stopped and we stood up, I discreetly put the pin in her line of vision on top of her book. She looked up and gave me the most unexpectedly warm smile and thanked me profusely. And that vision has warmed my heart all day. It's amazing what the littlest gesture can do.

Maybe someone in your life needs a pin.