If you have never replied to this weblog and let me know you have received it, I'm hoping you can do so this week. I've had reports it can go directly to spam or is not delivered, and the only way I know for sure, is when someone writes back or I get an 'out of office' message, which technically is writing back. Thanks.

The honor roll remains at 22 states, 1 Territory, and 1 European country: Delaware, Virginia, Washington, Vermont, Maine, California, Pennsylvania, Indiana, Texas, New Hampshire, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, Colorado, Tennessee, New York, Ohio, Arizona, Connecticut, Rhode Island and Massachusetts, plus Spain and Puerto Rico.

Most of the vehicles I've driven have had a sunroof. I'm not extrovert enough to drive a convertible, and a sunroof-ed vehicle has all the benefits of a rag top with the utility of a glass roof in bad weather and winter.

I pulled into my driveway after a long day on an early spring day. I had driven home with the with the sunroof wide open: temperatures were probably in the high 50’s or low 60’s.

I’m sure I had dinner a little later, and might have even sat out in the yard for a while with a nice glass of cheap chardonnay, or watched the Red Sox game on TV. I remember it was a clear and remarkably beautiful evening, filling me with all the promise of a great spring and summer on the way.

I think I went to bed about 11 PM and slept soundly until the thunder woke me up about 4:00 AM. When I rolled over, barely conscious, I could hear the rain pounding, I mean pounding, on the roof. The roof? When I shot up, half-awake, it occurred to me that I wasn’t sure whether or not I had closed the roof of the car after dinner.

Half awake, or half asleep depending on where you fall on the 'glass half full' spectrum, I bombed downstairs clad in gym shorts and a t-shirt, running out the front door in the driving rain in 40 degree weather, car keys in hand.

The shock of the cold driveway on my bare feet helped me concentrate, try it sometime. I reached for the top of the car hoping to touch glass. Now fairly wet and at least three-quarters awake, and may I add, remarkably refreshed by the driving rain, I realized that no, I did not close the sunroof and that water had been filling up the passenger space of the vehicle for about 20 minutes.

I did what you do at 4 AM in the driving rain in your driveway with the sun roof of your car wide open and not quite fully awake: I jumped in to turn the key and close the roof. I still remember the shock as my gym shorts and t-shirt hit the 40 degree puddle of water on the seat.

Now, fully awake, I closed the roof, got out of the car, and stood in the driving rain, in my driveway, in the dark, with very, very wet shorts and t-shirt and laughed.

The moral of the story? Several.

Hi Ed,

While not a Dunkin Donuts story (I love their coffee as well as Starbucks), I had a nice experience last night. It was our eldest’s birthday and he was playing an outside gig at a restaurant.

When I made a dinner reservation for our family to celebrate (while he worked), I let the restaurant know that Jack was our son and we hoped for a table somewhat near where he’d perform.

We had a good table, delicious food, perfect ambience and great entertainment - so fun all around.

When the bill arrived, much to our surprise, we received a 40% discount (for my having given birth to Jack 27 years ago?!?). I ended up giving the waitress what we would have spent on dinner (without the discount) and a tip on the full amount. As we left, she ran after us and said, “Wait! I need to get your change.” She seemed shocked when I said the rest was all for her. She asked, “Are you sure?” Yup.

Felt good to pay it forward to a young waitress who was beaming from under her mask (and to support the restaurant that has hired my son every Friday night since outdoor dining opened up). Wearing my mask and washing my hands,--Margaret