Everyday is a gift so says the plaque on the bathroom wall. Of course there should be a space between every and day. It is each and every day that is the present. But the everyday is a gift too, wrapped in plain paper addressed in Papermate blue, left at the doorstep, bound in time and string near the mat, common as dirt and dust, ordinary as tap water, easy to miss. When you return to the table it may have taken your place —look before you sit. It … [Read more...]