Nice, ain't it?

I was grasping a flower in my hand on the last day of the Cappelle-la-Grande tournament. A glistening red and yellow rose, a really nice one. I was walking up and down with it in the tournament hall. Walking up and down with it while everybody was guessing who I got it from. I just kept on smiling and being proud at this tiny stunner.

Wasn't the first time in my life, of course, that I received a flower. I merit a rose or a bouquet of flower usually for my chess achievements. A kind of a present and I really like it.

The other option is obtaining a flower for personal reasons, like from a guy at a rendezvous. Occasionally it happens to me, too, and I'm glad for it.


But this red and yellow little wonder could make me even happier. Because this flower was something different. This flower was special. It wasn't a recognition of chess results, no. Wasn't a proposal for a date either.

So what it was? -- A gentle gesture. The reason for my reaping the rose was simply this: being nice. I've got the flower because of being nice. "It's from all the Spanish guys because you were so nice to us" -- David stated, and all I can say is a big thank you, with smiling-proud face.

So muchas gracias, amigos!


(Click here for the source of the picture.)

Good enough

I have some moments when I find myself being not satisfied with what I've got. Sometimes it's in connection with my outlook: to be somewhat fatter, to need bigger size in bra, to grow above my sister in height, to have darker eyelashes and whatever.

At other moments I'm disappointed of a tournament, a lost game, a missed prize, a not-that-well performed presentation or a less successful test. I have these moments when nothing is good enough.

And I guess many other human-creatures -- if not all of them -- have such moments, too. Concerning different topics but same disappointment. Seems like the more we have the more we want.

I was bothering myself with such 'problems' this morning as well. And then Life the wise came and smacked me in the face. It arrived in the form of a walk, just a single walk. A walk nearby rag-beds, newspaper shelters -- smutty-faced inhabitants.

Just try to stare into their eyes and say you are not lucky enough.