0:01

Welcome to bedtime stories

0:03

for grown ups in

0:05

which nothing much happens, You

0:09

feel good, and then you

0:11

fall asleep. I'm

0:14

Katherine Nikolai. I

0:16

write and read all the stories

0:18

you hear on Nothing Much Happens.

0:21

Audio Engineering is by Bob Wittersheim.

0:26

My book, also called Nothing

0:29

Much Happens, is available wherever

0:31

books are sold. Thank

0:34

you for your support. Sometimes

0:38

even when our bodies are ready for

0:40

sleep, our minds aren't.

0:45

They might race and wander

0:48

and keep us up or wake

0:50

us back up after too little

0:52

sleep. That's

0:55

where I come in. I'll

0:59

tell you a story, and

1:01

as you listen, your busy mind will

1:03

slow and relax, and

1:07

before too long you'll be peacefully

1:09

asleep. I'll

1:13

tell the story twice, and

1:15

I'll go a little slower the second time through.

1:20

If you wake again in the night, go

1:23

right back to whatever you can remember

1:25

about the story, any

1:29

detail or image, and

1:31

your brain will quiet right back down. We're

1:37

habituating a response in your system.

1:40

So the more you do this, the

1:43

more quickly and easily you

1:45

will find sleep. Our

1:49

story tonight is called Coffee

1:52

on the Stoop or

1:54

how to Have a Better Day, and

1:58

it's a story about a day devoted

2:00

to small acts of kindness.

2:04

It's also about a kiddy sleeping

2:07

in a window, paints

2:09

and brushes and flower seeds,

2:14

and the awe that we feel when

2:16

a stranger reaches out to do us

2:18

a good turn. Now

2:24

turn off the light, no

2:27

more screens. Slide

2:30

down into your sheets, and

2:33

get as comfortable as you can. Take

2:38

a slow, deep breath in

2:41

through the nose and

2:46

out through the mouth. Good.

2:52

Do that one more time. Breathe

2:55

in and

2:59

out. Good

3:07

Coffee on the stoop, or

3:11

how to have a better day. There

3:16

was a bright pink band of

3:18

light across the morning sky,

3:23

and it was starting to shift to

3:25

peachy orange and

3:27

break apart into patches as I watched.

3:33

My coffee sat beside me, steaming

3:35

in the air on the front stoop, and

3:40

the roasty, rich smell mixed

3:42

with the green scent of grass and

3:44

growing gardens. We'd

3:49

had warmer days in the last few

3:51

weeks, but

3:53

we hadn't had a warm morning until

3:56

to day, And

3:59

somehow I had woken

4:01

up knowing it. Maybe

4:05

I could smell it through the tiny

4:07

crack in the window, or

4:11

maybe I could hear the birds singing

4:13

differently in the warm air. But

4:18

before I opened my eyes. I

4:22

knew the morning would be sweet and

4:24

warm and bright, and

4:28

it was. I

4:33

sat with no plans, sipping

4:36

slowly and watching the sky change

4:42

cross the street. I watched my neighbor's

4:44

kiddy, a Siamese

4:47

with fawn fur and deep brown

4:49

streaks around her eyes and ears,

4:53

pace across the top of the sofa in

4:55

her front window. Eventually,

4:59

she and

5:02

I watched her watch the birds

5:05

moving through the branches of the trees

5:07

on her street. I

5:11

was on my second cup when

5:13

I finally saw it, A

5:16

smudged scrap of paper tucked

5:19

under the corner of an empty

5:21

flower pot on

5:24

the top step of the porch. I

5:29

lifted an eyebrow and just

5:32

puzzled at it for a moment. Had

5:36

I left something there? Maybe

5:39

I dropped a piece of mail, or

5:42

a shopping list had fallen out of my pocket.

5:47

I shifted the pot and

5:50

smiled down at an inked note.

5:54

Flowers for your porch, it

5:57

said. Under

6:01

the note, I found three packs of seeds,

6:05

all flowers, different types

6:08

and different colors. I

6:12

laughed a bit, and picking

6:14

them up, looked up and down the

6:16

street, as

6:19

though the gift giver might still be

6:21

there and watching me.

6:27

It reminded me suddenly of

6:29

an old friend of mine

6:32

who was an expert stealth giver. She

6:37

had once hidden some small trinket

6:40

she'd seen me admire in

6:43

an empty mason jar in the back

6:45

of my cupboard. It

6:49

had taken me weeks to find it, But

6:52

when I had late one

6:54

night in pajamas and slippers looking

6:57

for a snack, I

7:00

felt like I'd been given something magical,

7:05

more than the trinket she'd

7:08

given me, the gift of amazement. I

7:14

looked down at the seeds, shaking

7:18

them in their paper packets to hear the

7:20

satisfying rattle, and

7:23

felt that same feeling. Now, what

7:28

if I thought I

7:31

tried to amaze a few people to day?

7:37

I carried my cup and the seeds

7:40

back inside and made some

7:42

plants. I'd

7:46

baked off a batch of muffins the day

7:49

before, full

7:51

of poppy seeds and lemon. I

7:56

put a few in an old cookie tin and

7:59

tied a ribbon around. I

8:03

had a neighbor up the street who

8:05

I had seen in the library a few days

8:07

before. They

8:11

were in the last semester of their degree,

8:14

and they had been sitting with a tall stack of

8:16

books and reams of notes

8:18

all around them. I

8:22

tucked a note in the tin study

8:25

snacks. It said a

8:31

few minutes later. I snuck the tin onto

8:33

their front porch and ducked

8:35

down the street toward the shops and

8:37

cafes on the corner. I

8:42

noticed a parking meter timed out in

8:44

front of the grocery and slipped

8:46

a few coins in from my pocket. I

8:50

bought a small bouquet of daisies

8:52

and daffodils and

8:54

carried them into the bookstore. There

8:58

was a tall shelf of historical fiction

9:00

in the back, and

9:03

I slipped the flowers into a gap at

9:05

the end of a row. I

9:09

left a note there too, It

9:12

just said for you. I

9:18

walked through the park and

9:20

picked up a few pieces of litter and

9:24

left a quarter in the feed dispenser for

9:26

the ducks. A

9:31

dad with two little ones was juggling juice

9:33

boxes, and I

9:35

stopped for a second to help tie a shoe

9:38

and open a pack of crackers.

9:43

When you start to look for ways to brighten

9:45

someone's day or lighten

9:48

someone's load, suddenly

9:51

they are all around you. I

9:55

held a door, I

9:58

retrieved a dropped pencil. I

10:01

took a picture of a dog sitting outside

10:04

of a shop and

10:06

sent it to a friend I hadn't heard from in a

10:08

while. I

10:12

pointed a delivery man in the right direction,

10:16

I lobbed an errant ball back into the

10:18

schoolyard. I

10:22

just smiled and slowed

10:24

down. I

10:27

thought that rushing was likely contagious,

10:31

and even just showing up wherever

10:34

I was with some

10:36

calm and ease was

10:39

a way to help. On

10:45

my way back home, I stopped

10:47

at the mail box of the house across the street

10:50

and slipped in a package of toy mice stuffed

10:52

with catnip. She

10:56

watched me from her spot on the back of the sofa.

11:01

She stopped her bath and

11:03

treated me to a quick flick of

11:05

the tail. Back.

11:09

In my own place, I laid

11:11

out some newspapers on the kitchen table and

11:15

got ready to plant my flower seeds.

11:20

I'd stopped at a little art shop and

11:22

bought some pretty bright paints and tiny

11:25

brushes. I

11:28

dusted off the pots and brightened

11:30

them up with the paints, sharp

11:32

lines and a few words. I

11:37

spooned potting mixed in and

11:39

sewed a few seeds in each. I

11:44

mixed the seeds up so each

11:46

pot would have a rainbow of colors.

11:52

I watered them gently from the tap and

11:54

set them out in saucers back

11:56

on the front stoop. I'd

12:00

painted a message on with my brushes,

12:04

and I turned them out to the street so

12:07

my gift giver could read it. When

12:09

they passed by. They

12:12

said, thank

12:15

you friend. Coffee

12:22

on the stoop or

12:26

how to have a better day. There

12:31

was a bright pink band of light

12:35

across the morning sky, and

12:40

it was starting to shift to peachy

12:42

orange and break into patches

12:44

as I watched. My

12:49

coffee sat beside me, steaming

12:52

in the air on the front stoop, and

12:55

the roasty, rich smell mixed

12:59

with the green of grass and

13:01

growing gardens. We'd

13:07

had warmer days in the last

13:09

few weeks, but

13:12

we hadn't had a warm morning until

13:15

today. And

13:18

somehow I'd

13:21

woken up knowing it.

13:27

Maybe I could smell it through

13:30

the tiny crack in the window, or

13:36

maybe I could hear the birds singing

13:39

differently in the warm air. Before

13:45

I opened my eyes, I

13:48

knew the morning would be sweet and

13:51

warm and bright, and

13:55

it was. I

14:00

sat with no plans, sipping

14:02

slowly and

14:05

watching the sky change

14:10

across the street. I watched my neighbor's

14:12

kitty, a Siamese

14:15

with fawn fur and

14:18

deep brown streaks around

14:20

her eyes and ears pace

14:24

across the top of the sofa in

14:27

her front window. Eventually

14:32

she sat and

14:36

I watched her watch

14:38

the birds moving through

14:40

the branches of the old trees

14:42

on our street. I

14:48

was on my second cup when

14:51

I finally saw it, a

14:54

smudged scrap of paper tucked

14:58

under the corner of an empty flower

15:00

pot on the top step

15:02

of the porch. I

15:07

lifted an eyebrow and

15:10

just puzzled at it for a moment. Had

15:14

I left something there? Maybe

15:18

I'd dropped a piece of mail, or

15:21

a shopping list had fallen out of my pocket.

15:28

I shifted the pot and smiled

15:30

down at an inked note.

15:35

Flowers for your porch,

15:38

it said. Under

15:41

the note, I found three packs

15:43

of seeds, all

15:46

flowers, different

15:48

types and different colors. I

15:53

laughed a bit, and

15:55

picking them up, looked up and down the

15:57

street, as though

16:00

the gift giver might still be there

16:03

and watching me. It

16:09

reminded me suddenly of an

16:11

old friend of mine

16:13

who was an expert stealth giver.

16:19

She had once hidden some small trinket

16:22

she'd seen me admire in

16:25

an empty mason jar in

16:27

the back of my cupboard. It

16:32

had taken me weeks to find it, But

16:37

when I had late

16:40

one night, in pajamas

16:42

and slippers, looking for

16:44

a snack, I

16:47

felt like I'd been given something magical,

16:53

more than the trinket she'd

16:56

given me, the gift of amazement. I

17:03

looked down at the seeds, shaking

17:07

them in their paper packets to

17:09

hear the satisfying rattle, and

17:14

felt that same feeling. Now, what

17:20

if I thought, I

17:24

tried to amaze a few people to

17:26

day? I

17:31

carried my cup and the seeds

17:33

back inside and

17:36

made some plans. I'd

17:40

baked off a batch of muffins the

17:43

day before, full

17:46

of poppy seeds and lemon. I

17:54

put a few in an old cookie tin and

17:57

tied a ribbon around it. I

18:03

had a neighbor up the street who'd

18:05

I had seen in the library a

18:07

few days before. They

18:12

were in the last semester of their

18:14

degree, and

18:16

they had been sitting with a tall stack of

18:18

books and

18:21

reams of notes all around them. I

18:27

tucked a note in the tin study

18:31

snacks, it said, a

18:36

few minutes later, I

18:38

snuck the tin on to their front porch and

18:42

knucked down the street toward

18:44

the shops and cafes on the

18:46

corner. I

18:51

noticed a parking meter timed

18:53

out in front of the grocery and

18:58

slipped a few coins in from

19:00

my pocket.

19:04

I bought a small bouquet of daisies

19:07

and daffodils and

19:09

carried them into the bookstore. There

19:15

was a tall shelf of historical

19:17

fiction in the back, and

19:20

I slipped the flowers into a gap

19:23

at the end of a row. I

19:29

left a note there too, that

19:32

just said for

19:34

you. I

19:39

walked through the park and

19:42

picked up a few pieces of litter and

19:45

left a quarter in the feed dispenser

19:48

for the ducks. A

19:53

dad with two little ones was juggling

19:55

juice boxes, and

19:58

I stopped for a second to help

20:01

tie his shoe and

20:03

open a pack of crackers.

20:08

And when you start to look for ways

20:11

to brighten some one's day or

20:14

lighten some one's load, suddenly

20:17

they are all around you. I

20:22

held a door, I

20:25

retrieved a dropped pencil. I

20:29

took a picture of a dog sitting outside

20:31

a shop and sent it to

20:33

a friend I hadn't heard from in a while. I

20:40

pointed a delivery man in the right direction.

20:45

I lobbed an arrant ball back into

20:47

the schoolyard, I

20:52

just smiled and

20:55

slowed down. I

20:58

thought that rushing was

21:02

likely contagious uneven.

21:06

Just showing up wherever

21:09

I was with some

21:11

calm and ease was

21:14

a way to help. On

21:21

my way back home, I

21:23

stopped at the mailbox of the

21:25

house across the street

21:30

and slipped in a package of toy

21:32

mice stuffed with catnip.

21:39

She watched me from her spot on

21:41

the back of the sofa. She

21:45

stopped her bath and

21:47

treated me to a quick flick of

21:49

the tail. Back

21:56

in my own place, I

22:00

laid out some newspapers on

22:02

the kitchen table and

22:05

got ready to plant my flower

22:07

seeds. I'd

22:13

stopped at a little art shop and

22:15

bought some pretty bright paints

22:19

and tiny brushes. I

22:25

dusted off the pots and brightened

22:27

them up with the paints,

22:31

sharp lines and

22:34

a few words. I

22:41

spooned potting mix in and

22:44

sewed a few seeds in each. I

22:50

mixed the seeds up so

22:53

each pot would have a rainbow of

22:55

colors. I

22:58

watered them gently from the tap and

23:02

set them out in saucers back

23:04

on the front stoop. I'd

23:09

painted a message on with my brushes,

23:13

and I turned them out to the street so

23:17

my gift giver could read it. When

23:19

they passed by, they

23:23

said thank you

23:26

friend. Sweet

23:32

dreams,