Last week I made one of my favorite sandwiches, tomato with lots of salt. Plain white bread, lightly toasted. A tiny swoosh of mayo.

As I chomped down with glee, a huge splurt of tomato seeds flew out, landing in dramatic splotches all down the front of my first-day-of-sweater-weather outfit. Oooo doggie, I was mad!

Scrubbing the stains, it occurred to me that within just a few weeks, I will be dreaming of fresh tomatoes. By the time the snow starts to pile up, I’d trade a hundred piles of laundry for my favorite sandwich.

Dear ones, may we welcome the tiny annoyances of the day – the tomato splurt, the crying child, the thorn-pricked thumb.

May we treasure the fleeting blessings contained within.