Posted by: gdevi | August 26, 2014

Honor system Coffee Shop in North Dakota

An honor system coffee shop in North Dakota: read Guardian feature here.

I will check it out the next time I am in North Dakota.

You know, gift economies create unique communities. Very nice!

There was this Moroccan gas station in Dallas, on Southwestern Boulevard and Greenville Avenue, and the owners were two brothers, and for some reason they thought I was a Moroccan or Lebanese or something. They always said as-Salaamu Alaikum to me and would never take money from me when I filled gas. They were good people, but it was sort of embarrassing. I stopped going there after a couple of times of not being able to pay for gas.

Now, I have to scrape change and get a cappuccino at Starbucks before I go to my class! Oy!

Later.

Fall semester started yesterday, and  if I am to go by the examples of today and yesterday, I’d probably be dead by December. That would be terrible, because I would really like to go to India and see my parents. I wish I could say like Captain Kirk, Beam me up, Scotty! And poof, I am in India! What a totally sweet thought! I just finished all the stuff for today, and ran away from campus and came home before anyone could ask me to do one more thing before I left. I have to finish sewing some things for my daughter, and then I look forward to taking a nap when she is at soccer. Good lord, what a day! But all good classes — lots of familiar faces, and new faces. Four classes and two independent studies in Modern Japanese Lit. It’s all good.

Much later.

My daughter starts high school tomorrow–ninth grade. I have never seen her so excited. My daughter’s anticipation and excitement about what tomorrow will bring at the high school is almost like what you or I might feel about going to another country. Already the high school seniors in the girl’s soccer team have told the junior kids their version of “high school.” For the past few days, my daughter opens every sentence with “In High School . . .” It is amazing to be a kid, isn’t it? So everything is done–bookbag packed, lunch picked out, and I made her her favorite supper–small piece of steak, steamed broccoli with plenty of butter, and mashed potatoes. I love you, sweetie. Do well. God bless you. Love mama.

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