[On Saturdays my topic of focus is A Small, Good Thing, inspired by one of my favorite Raymond Carver stories.]

A big part of my identity is rooted in thinking of myself as a kind, caring, gentle and optimistic person…one who says supportive, positive things…a Tigger, not an Eeyore.

I’m uncomfortable saying anything that might come across as negative or unnice.  I hate the thought of hurting someone’s feelings or having them get angry at me.

[On Saturdays my topic of focus is A Small, Good Thing, inspired by one of my favorite Raymond Carver stories.]

My career as a tutor takes me from one house to another, and at this time of year I’m availed of the special treat of seeing so many folks’ holiday decorations.

I’ve learned to always stop and take a moment to enjoy and admire and comment. People put so much work into decorating, and those ornaments and displays often carry deep meaning for their proud owners.

I’m quite sure that’s not what really happened, but here’s the story:

For me and my neighbors, trash pick-up day is Friday.

I live in a little town, where there’s no municipal sanitation crew. Everybody hires one of several local mom-and-pop companies to pick up their trash.

The guys who collect our garbage are a father and son team with a small garbage truck (a modified pick-up truck). The men grab each can and swing it up and dump the contents into the truck by hand. They do that ALL DAY. I get tired just watching them.

I wrote about my dad yesterday, and today I’m thinking about my mother.

She was very fond of this old-timey saying:

If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.

I know, I know…pure Pollyanna…

but those words actually sank in.