Material things don’t often stir the embers of any smothering envy inside me. Truth be told, there have been a few sports cars over the years which have at least tempted me to entertain such thoughts. But for the most part, if I am guilty of envy, it is envy occasioned by sentimental situations. Tearful airport reunions, portraits of extended families with everyone wearing the same color - those sort of occasions can tempt my envy.

Belonging (almost) seems worthy of envy.

The scene was the lobby of the Olive Garden restaurant. Outside, a bitter cold wind whipped up handfuls of light white snow. The occasion was a dinner celebrating family friend Emily Porritt earning her master’s degree. Emily’s husband Joe and her mother Lois were there - and 3 from our family.

The moment was that time of parting, the hugging and congratulating and then of separating. It happens plenty of times, it is not so uncommon a moment. But I realized as I gave and received the hugs of parting, that it was a moment I might have envied had I spied it from the outside.

“The good times in our lives do not come labeled as such,” my mother once said.

* * *

I miss the Reader’s Digest in my life. The magazine was a staple in our house when I was growing up.

I remember there being so many different styles, voices and content in a good Reader’s Digest. Some of the articles made you laugh, some made you think. What a variety of material there was to take in.

I would have never read an article about a body part on my own. Yet, “I am Joe’s gallbladder” could be short and concise enough to be interesting.

For a time some years back my wife Deb and the kids and I would regularly sit and compose submissions to the magazine. We’d write jokes, little vignettes and often we’d target some articles for the “big money” as we referenced it.

I really should subscribe once again.

Still today, someone will relate a great story at the dinner table and one of the members of our original family writer’s group will say: “You should send that in to the Reader’s Digest.”

Such was the reaction while out to dinner recently with Sandy and Tom Lenin of Marco Island, Fla. Tom and Sandy are the parents of Kristy, our son Brad’s girlfriend.

Sandy related the story of their adoption of a dog orphaned after the Katrina Hurricane. The dog, whom they named Lucy, was friendly enough - but did not seem to respond well to commands. Respond she did not, until Sandy noted how attentive the dog was when the gardeners worked around the house.

Well, it turned out Lucy the dog understood Spanish, not English. She could sit and beg and roll over - if instructed to do so... in Spanish. And well, don’t you agree, that such a story deserves a spot in Reader’s Digest?

* * *

I stopped at “Scotty’s” the other day for a hot dog. Scotty’s is a take out only greasy spoon with fence wire between the customers and the workers. It’s the kind of place where you check whether or not you still have your wallet while you wait for your order.

As I waited for the cook to serve up a new batch of fries, I took time to read a small hand-lettered sign hanging by itself under the menu board.

“Charge for cutting sandwich in half - 25 cents.”

I don’t know about you, but I like when pricing is clear. And boy, Scotty makes his prices and extra services real clear.

* * *

Any suggestions out there? The interior of my car smells like a damp sheep dog these days. This happens every winter. My galoshes drip water on the driver’s floor mat which then retains water and never gets a chance to dry out until mid-May.

I suppose I could bring the mat in to dry out each night.

But are there any other thoughts out there?

Meanwhile, stay warm.