People of West Virginia: While waiting today in the drive-thru line at Tudor's, I fished in my handbag for money, not paying attention to the fact I was still rolling. Bump!!! Since it was the first fender bender in my life, I became extremely upset. I jumped out of the car and started to apologize to the lady driver in front of me. She said: "No damage! Don't worry! I did that several times myself." And then she... hugged me.
I've been all over the world but never heard about a custom of hugging the shocked traffic offenders. That kind of generosity of spirit is obviously a West Virginia speciality.
I was so impressed that I neglected to ask for the lady's name. Would love to hug her back. ❤️

About a home and no home, and blood on the pillow... I was driving home after a dramatic tooth extraction when I saw a friend of mine. I hoped a friendly “Hello” would cheer me up, so I stopped. She pointed at the shopping bags in the open trunk and at her husband chatting with their neighbor. “He always talks to everybody instead of helping me,” she complained. Irritated, she jerked a plastic bag that tore apart and continued, “Sometimes I think I would be better off without him.“ As oranges rolled down the driveway, her husband interrupted his conversation and hurried to gather the errant fruit. The scene reminded me of the unwritten rules in my family. If one of us had a mishap— like pouring something out on the floor, throwing up, or shattering glass into pieces—the others immediately came to clean it up, in order to soothe that misfortune. That was one of the things that made my home a home.
Since I was feeling the pain from my dental work and the anesthesia’s relief was wearing off, I didn't want to start any debates, so I bid her goodbye. Awaking from pain that night, I noticed my pillow was red from blood. I looked at it for a moment and subconsciously waited for someone to hand me a pain pill or change the pillowcase for me. But my house was breathing emptiness. I didn't know what hurt more: the wound in the jaw or in the soul. Is home like a healthy tooth? Can it be that we don't value it enough until we miss it?

I took the dogs to the lake to enjoy the early fall weather. Joyfully, they disappear in the woods, and I found myself a lonely cove, enjoyed the mild sun, listened to the whispering leaves and watched the boats turning in the small bay nearby.

Suddenly a boat with four men steered unusually close to my spot. I felt uncomfortable when I realized that I was there alone within a radius of a half mile, and the dogs running through the woods would never hear my calls. For a moment, the men stared in my direction and then one of them yelled: “Cool dogs!”

I turned, and there they were: all three still standing behind me, with raised hackles, staring back at the men.

I don't have enough knowledge to say if they sensed my fear or just came accidentally in the right time. My German Shepherds, I'm learning about you. Respectfully, Krys.

My life motto is and always has been: Live and let live. According to that, I think I am a pretty tolerant and understanding person. But there are moments when I feel some satisfaction when arrogant people get a lesson.

I was on vacation with a group of friends and since the weather did not cooperate, the entertainers organized a chess tournament. I'm not a great player but some people are worse than me and apparently those had entered the competition. It happened in two different places: at the Greenbrier and on a ship. Since I don't remember what was where and it doesn't matter, I will combine those two events to one story.

I had learned to play chess as a child and always had to beg my older brothers to play with me. When I was lucky they agreed but mercilessly, only under the condition that I would choose the black pieces, which puts me at a disadvantage because the white ones open the game. Therefore, throughout my childhood, I developed decent skills - not so much how to attack but how to dodge the bullet. I could see through my opponent's strategy and successfully keep myself out of trouble.

Writing that, I just realized that this behavior took over my entire personality. I never bother people but I react if provoked. And even then, I first withdraw myself in order to give them a chance to stop. It reminds me of one taekwondo tournament in Vienna, Austria. The main Korean Master, Son Young-Ho of the European Taekwondo Federation, came to watch us Vienna fighters in action. As he stood with our Vienna master and commented, my daughter who was recording the fight caught their conversation on tape. When Mr. Son Young-Ho said: "She is good in dodging but that's all she does," the Vienna couch answered: "Sir, give her some time, she waits for the real attack." Later on, I was surprised that the pattern of my acting was so obvious.

Playing chess, I find fun derived from mastering difficult situation. The victory is not my real goal. Sometimes when I see an obvious mistake of my opponent, I give him one chance to take back his move and to rethink it, even if it might cause me to lose. During that tournament I played 10 games, and...well, every dog has its day...I won them all. Among the matches was the classical 4 Moves Checkmate. I really made it and got a thunderous applause. The photographer couldn't resist.

But the real funny moment was when one of the players said to his wife: "How much time do you give me to be finished with this nice lady?" (That nice lady supposed to be me!) His wife answered "One hour?" He laughed loud out. "How about twelve minutes? Or perhaps fifteen since the nice lady looks intelligent." He was older than me and so was his wife, and I found it touching that he still tried to impress her. I saw one of my friends face and recognized that his thoughts were a little bit different because he was smiling with closed lips and by raising one side of his mouth. When we sat down to the chess board and shook hands, my opponent reached to my face and petted my cheek. My other friend closed her eyes and I thought for a moment she would fall off her chair. After a while we came to a moment that my opponent was about to lose his queen. I asked the man if he would like to rethink the fatal move but he only stated: "I don't need your generosity, pretty cupcake," and looked to his wife to exchange smiles. "Are you sure?" asked one of my friends and the other one added: "She is a killer." Which I wasn't! I was just lucky that the people participating in that tournament were out of practice. But I understood why they had said that. My friends must have begun to dislike that arrogant man. My opponent answered with a laugh: "Yeah, yeah!" My friend applied again his typical one-sided-smile and mumbled: "Suit yourself." After a few more minutes, my opponent threw the game. Since it was my last match we went outside, and when no one was around, we burst out laughing. I felt so mean but I couldn't help but laugh and laugh.