Ben's Bells

When he was little, Mr. 17 and I spent a lot of time painting ceramic flowers at Ben's Bells. 

They are put together into hanging bells - some for sale, like this one gifted to me by Beautiful Annie after I was shot, and which has lived on the fireplace's gas key in the living room ever since

and some bigger ones that are left in random places for passersby to find and cherish.  

I once got to place one.  I put it on the short iron fence at an outdoor cafe, then watched people walk by without noticing it.  The woman who found it thought it was lost, but the attached tag reassured her that it was hers to keep and treasure.

Her face just glowed. 

Today we painted and chatted.  College and girls and siblings and careers and general nothingness helped us pass the time as he and his mother and I sat at a small table and put dots and lines and smiley faces on shapes that had already been painted with solid colors. 

It's nice to know that things we did a decade ago have not lost their luster.

Did I mention the best part?  It was all Mr. 17's idea.