Mum likes to shop at New Seasons on a Wednesday. They give you a discount if you're "better than 65," and, as she says, she's much much better. They also sell great gluten-free foods, and Mum loves to buy me treats when she visits here.
Today I'd told Mum about my Thanksgiving cornbread, made from a packet, with added cheese and salsa. It was my first ever cornbread success, so we thought we'd try to repeat it. But we couldn't find g-f cornbread mixes anywhere. An assistant came to our aid but found nothing either, so we continued on our way, guessing we were out of luck.
Ten minutes later the assistant chased us down in another aisle. "I've found one," she declared. Not only that; she'd found us! So now I can share my gluten-free cornbread with Mum, and we can share our love for New Seasons with anyone reading this.
I wonder if there's a message there for my writing--best make sure my story runs after my readers whenever I've left them confused--make them feel looked after--leave them wanting to come back for more... And eat cornbread!