Its the Little Things

I had a GREAT summer. I traveled all over the place, made new friends and visited some cherished old ones, learned a lot of painful things about war and politics, saw a lot of breathtaking scenery, and never once denied myself anything that looked like a pastry. Or like chocolate. Or just anything tasty looking.

One day found me in Northern Ireland, wandering all over Derry County (on the all-inclusive Freedom of Northern Ireland pass, no less) having many adventures and misadventures with my friend Dacia. After a long day we were finally on the train home back into Derry the city and we were sitting across the aisle from a family playing cards.

I'm a card-game geek so I was watching them play, trying to figure out what game it was. Dacia and I sat and stared while father and son both flipped over every single card in their hand until the deck was out. And that was it. Nothing else ever happened in this "game".

"That was it?" I muttered. "What a crap game!"
Dacia, always a little more patient and tolerant than me, replied "Well, sometimes its the little things."

No sooner were those words out of her mouth when we hear the eight year old boy exclaim "What the HELL?!" Apparently he wasn't impressed with this game either.

Dacia was right though. Sometimes it IS the little things. That tiny, insignificant moment in time is one of my favorite memories from this summer, one that makes a laugh bubble up in my chest every time I think of it and I will probably will remember it much longer than a lot of other events from the summer.