Truly the best thing I read online yesterday was the local, on-the-scene reporting of a colleague of my husband’s who had discovered a snake in her car. It had excitement, fear, humor, you name it. It was right up there with the HoCo goat story, in my opinion.
Probably the best thing about it was that it wasn’t about redistricting.
Frankly, if I had permission to bring you the snake episode in its entirety, I would, because it’s a story in which there is a problem, a request for help, and a response from friends. Granted, some of the suggestions - - “You will now need a new car” - - were tongue-in-cheek, but, overall, it was enjoyable because everyone was rooting for the protagonist.
This is not going to morph into any kind of lecture about how we all need to be kinder to each other, or about how redistricting is showing us at our worst. I’m simply exhausted by it all. I need reminders of the small stories that show our humanity.
A friend had a getaway at the beach that restored her soul. A free concert at the Chrysalis by the Maryland Winds entertained community members. My husband and I enjoyed our first meal from new local restaurant Cazbar. Members of the local Buy Nothing group shared with each other all weekend long.
Give me the small stories, folks. The big ones are crushing me.
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