Bus Report #1050

M. used to say I had a charmed life. He's the one who coined the "Miss Rachel's Neighborhood" phrase, and sometimes it is so, so apt.

This morning at the bus stop we had a mini reunion - The Frenchman, Alain, the woman who works at the hospital, Olga, and I.

Olga was the last to join us, and the woman who works at the hospital (I can't remember if we have a name for her, but she looks like a Jeannine, so let's call her that) grinned and said, "Looks like we're all here."
I said, "We got the band back together."
We talked of Thanksgiving plans, or at least, Alain and I did. He is traveling up north. Jeannine is working over the holiday, which shocked Alain. Olga just stood there, smiling at the three of us.

Olga moved next to me and fiddled with the zipper of her purse. She took out a folded bundle of cloth and handed it to me saying, "Yes, you take, please."
I looked at what she had given me. It was a very soft, woven scarf, blue with a Burberry-esque pattern.
"Oh, no, I can't," I said, but she kept pressing it into my hands.
"Cold," she said, gesturing to my neck.
I know when I'm beaten. I thanked her, and hugged her, and wound the scarf around my neck.
She nodded, smiled. "Yes," she said. "Now, not cold."
Now not cold, indeed.

I thanked her again. Patted her arm. She touched her own scarf and nodded.

The bus arrived and we four trooped on.

Happy Thanksgiving, Olga, Alain, Jeannine and our regular driver.
And Happy Thanksgiving to you all, dear readers.