When opportunity strikes...

I've been carrying a harmonica in my purse for the past six months. When asked why, I always give the same answer...because someday, I'll run into someone who can show me how to play it.

As it turns out. Today was that day.

Carl-the-Famous-Theologian and Sunny-the-City-Girl just introduced me to Martin-the-Blues-Harpist. Okay, so that isn't his official title. He is actually the vice president of a Christian organization and I believe he is also a chemical engineer, but any professional accomplishment pales in comparison to the fact that he comes from the land where harmonicas are made--and he can actually play one.

Today, I commandeered him away from the church picnic to give me a lesson. And he was kind enough to help me make the leap from the discs I've been listening to to actual personal instruction.

This evening, John and I invited him back to our house for dinner, and the five of us (Carl and Sunny) shared Fourth of July fare, beers and interesting conversation.

I love serendipity.