Thanks, everybody. My hands are fine, my back required a bit of stretching but basically things are okay.

This morning was the second half of the local church conference. The guy whom I was a pushover for last night was the one running the mics and super-focused on the tech tasks at hand again.

Some years ago I mentioned to a friend who was a tech writer about a teacher I’d met who’d told me she’d transferred into the district from a town in SoCal because there were more single men than woman in Silicon Valley and she was hoping to find her way into that next stage of her hoped-for life.

To which he remarked that if you’re looking for a husband, there are a lot of engineers here but that’s also why you have a concentration of single men: they’re on the spectrum. “The odds are good–but the goods are odd.”

Before the meeting started, there was last night’s Mr. Oblivious, suddenly standing in the space two rows in front of where we were seated, holding his two-year-old son’s hand like the best daddy ever and looking just above our heads.

Last night’s meeting ran past little kids’ bedtimes and there was no family there with him and no way to know he had one.

I dove into my purse and pulled out the first thing to hand. Richard held the little white puppy finger puppet out to him, which, when he sat down, his wife exclaimed over and his little boy was happy.

If the guy had been told he’d knocked me down, if he or I worried about what to do or say next, it was all taken care of now. It’s cool.

I wish I could tell whoever the knitter in Peru is, Thank you for the peacemaking.