I am in St. Simons Island, staying with my parents. (And trying, in vain, not to be drawn into discussions of what I want to eat two hours from now, then six hours after that, and then perhaps for breakfast tomorrow . . .) This morning, I headed out to the local coffeehouse for a latte to have with breakfast.(Homemade banana bread from a cousin I will see tomorrow.) I was walking in my too-fast way when an older woman on the path stopped suddenly, so suddenly that I had to be careful not too bump into her.

"White wisteria," she said, pointing. "You hardly ever see that."

But I had already passed, so I called back over my shoulder: "Yes! Have a lovely morning." And my brain was thinking: Coffee, coffee, coffee.

Walking back, I wanted to pause and look at the wisteria. But I knew if I did, I would then write about this, and wouldn't that undercut the idea that we all need, at times, to stop and look at the white wisteria? Yet, hey -- I really did want to study the wisteria. It was, for anyone who has read the new book, a very Cassandra moment.

I did stop. It's white, but edged in lavender. Who knows how long it will appear to be white to the eye? Down here, many things are in bloom -- azaleas, dogwoods, redbuds (I think). It is spring and the one thing I must do today is take a bike ride.

Writing anything is treasonous, to go back to the Kitchen Confidential quote I so love. (And, given my memory, probably mangle.) But, perhaps, in the 2-W day -- which I have already managed today, thank you very much -- there is time for wisteria, too.

And, later, Wal-Mart -- my only hope of replacing my phone on a Sunday afternoon in Brunswick, GA.

Let's make a list of other W's worth adding to the 2-W day. I'll start with -- wine!