I Have Almonds

Way back when when I played guitar on a more regular basis, the group I studied/played with at university embarked on a small tour of Eastern and Northern Ontario. We were billeted along the way. At one of our destinations, the only other woman (I can't remember her name. I can only vaguely remember her profile and the look of her hands as she played) and I were dropped off at a very gingerbread looking cottage. It was quite lovely. Inside, we were taken up to our room complete with huge duvet covered bed and private shower. The woman who lived there told us that she tried to support the arts and young artists whenever possible. This room was done up specifically for those on tour.

When we awoke the next morning, we stepped outside of the room and found 2 steaming and freshly foamed cappuccinos along with a plate of fresh almonds. A note indicated that we were to enjoy this feast and that our benefactor had been, unfortunately, called away. The iron was in the closet if we wished to use it and would we mind locking the door as we left.

When the fellas came to pick us up, they looked a bit worse for wear. The had been billeted en mass at a house where their sleeping accommodations consisted of sleeping bags on the basement floor. We two girls looked at each other and smiled. Of course we mentioned how well we had been pampered. We rubbed it in. Our bed. Our shower. Fluffy towels. Good conversation. Ironed clothes. Cappuccino. And, Almonds.

To me, the highlight was the almonds. I felt, to a certain extent, that I had achieved another level. A glimpse into a world previously unknown to me. Future possibilities.

This morning, I'm having a cappuccino and enjoying a handful of almonds. It's bringing back memories of that tour. Of playing guitar. Of discovering new likes and dislikes. Of growing up.