Patti Digh writes a blog that delights me. This post is a case in point. Snippet:

I could barely focus on what Donna was saying to me, or her friend, either. I know I’ve written many times—and very recently!—about simplicity and not owning a lot of things and the evils of rampant materialism and how things keep us from being free and who we are—but honestly, you weren’t there. You cannot know how utterly and completely perfect that woman’s scarf was for me. My life would be complete, I knew in a hot blinding instant, if that scarf were around my neck and not hers. “That scarf is so gorgeous,” I gushed, plotting how to pull one end of it, twirl her out of it like a mummy, and then run screaming up the aisle for the exit. Screw Mary Oliver and her precious Rumi translating friend. I would run like the wind with that scarf blowing behind me, out into the dark, dark night.