Cindy Hval

A shadow sliced the sunlight. The white metal table wobbled as he dropped a sheaf of papers next to my brimming cup of café au lait. “It’s brilliant!” he said. “It’s something only you could write.” Carefully, I removed my wide-brimmed straw hat and looked into George Clooney’s baby blues. “I’m so glad you liked it,” I said. “I am really looking forward to …”

It was the car she noticed first. While enjoying a soda with her mother at Halpin’s Drug Store in Spokane Valley, Maggie Moore watched a sleek, black 1947 Buick Super pull up. “I’m a car lover,” she said.

Businesses in the burgeoning Garland District have more in common than just their location. Most of them – from Tinman Gallery to Celebrations Bakery to the Garland Sandwich Shoppe – are owned by women. “We call it ‘Girls on Garland,’ ” said Bonnie Quinn, owner of Quinn Group Advertising and Marketing. Her father started the Quinn Group in 1969 and the business moved to the Garland locale in 1976.

One by one they arrived at two-year intervals. First Ethan, then Alex, then Zack. Each baby welcomed with joy until our home overflowed with boys. Three is plenty we said. Three is more than enough.

It doesn’t look like much. A few sheets of plywood, the steel skeleton of a diamond jutting up in the front, a white plastic lawn chair perched on the back. But by May 18, the bare bones of this year’s Lilac Festival float will be transformed into a thing of shimmering beauty.

The unmistakable melody of Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” filled the packed room at the Pavilion at Northern Quest Resort and Casino. A trio of women took the stage, executing the iconic dance moves as the lead singer, sequined hat, one glove and all, belted out the song. The tune was familiar but the words were not.

The Sale brothers know about marriage. The three men and their wives have a combined total of 185 years of marital experience between them. Here from youngest to oldest, the brothers and their wives share their stories and offer a few tips about what it takes to have a lasting relationship.

A happy buzz of laughter and conversation filled the kitchen at Temple Beth Shalom on a recent afternoon, as women gathered to bake hamantaschen for the 72nd annual Kosher Dinner. The enticing scent of vanilla, dates and strawberry jam wafted into the hallway.

Bashing your hometown seems to be a popular activity among some Spokanites. Not me.

On a gloomy February afternoon the lobby of the Magic Lantern Theatre sparkled with laughter, conversation and tiaras. The Magic Lantern Girlfriends Club had convened to celebrate February birthdays and watch a special screening of “Fried Green Tomatoes.”

The crowd in the lobby at Touchmark on South Hill buzzed with anticipation on Valentine’s Day as the contestants filed in for the fifth annual Not So Newlywed Game. Modeled after the TV show “The Newlywed Game,” Touchmark’s variation featured four couples competing to show just how well they know each other.

For more than 60 years, Ralph and Geraldine “Gerry” Reifenberger have made their home in Fairfield amid the rolling hills of the Palouse. “I married a city girl and transplanted a rose,” said Ralph, a third generation farmer.

Although inducted into the National Toy Hall of Fame in 1999, the Hula Hoop has evolved into much more than a child’s plaything. At First Night Spokane, people thronged to watch the Visual Vortex Spin Collective dance with hoops. To the delight of an enthusiastic audience, the group twirled and spun flaming hoops, accompanied by eclectic music.

His shock of white hair stood on end as he ran his hands through it. He wanted to talk about food, rattling off recipes from memory until I ran out of room on the cheap hospital stationery I’d grabbed from a nurse. At 16, my cooking repertoire was limited to frozen burritos and microwaveable meals. Yet here I sat, discussing veal osso bucco and charlotte russe with a stranger.

If Justin Sherfey, 14, had known how to tie a necktie, a gifted musical duo might never have been born. As Sherfey, the reigning Northwest Fiddle champion, waited to take the stage for a local talent competition, he realized he had a wardrobe malfunction. Colby Acuff, 16, had just performed and saw the younger teen fumbling with his necktie. “I didn’t know how to tie it, so he tied it for me,” said Sherfey.

When Bill and Irene Zimmer met on a blind date, they already had a lot in common. Bill, a senior at Gonzaga University at the time, had grown up on a farm near the Pend Oreille River. Irene, a nursing student at Sacred Heart Hospital, was raised on a farm in Chewelah, Wash. In addition, they both were staunch Catholics.

It’s like a death, really. The news that the north Spokane Fred Meyer store was closing stunned me. For more than 20 years I’ve weekly walked the store’s aisles. I’m confident I could find my way around it blindfolded.

It’s not difficult to guess Gabby LeDuc’s favorite color. On a recent afternoon in the kitchen at Ronald McDonald House, the 6-year-old wore a pair of fluffy purple boots that sparkled with sequins. Gabby grinned. “I like purple and sparkly things.”

The reader results are in regarding my Christmas card column. By a large majority, those who responded expressed dismay at my dismissal of annual holiday greetings. One reader enjoys using the cards as part of her Christmas decorations. Another uses them to share the Gospel message. And most who wrote eschew social media sites like Facebook. Interestingly, all of the responses I received came via email. (Disclaimer, I haven’t checked my mailbox at The Spokesman-Review since November, so there may be a letter or – gulp! – a card, awaiting my attention.)

We’ve taken the tree and the decorations down, packed away the holiday movies and CDs, and welcomed the New Year. But I’ve still got some unsettled Christmas business to address. Stacked in front of me is this year’s collection of Christmas cards. Cheery greetings from people I see every week mingle with photo cards from folks I haven’t seen in years. Some include a brief note, but most are simply signed with the sender’s name.

When you hear about a boy from the Colville Indian Reservation who meets a girl from Kansas City, in Japan of all places, you know you’re in for an interesting story. And for Sol and Darlene Ferguson it’s a tale with a happy ending. Sol’s father had been drafted in 1944, and when the Ferguson family left for Japan in 1947, they made the news. “I went over with eight siblings and came home with 11,” Sol said. “We were the largest family to be deployed at that time.”

By the time you read this it will be almost a week since the horrific shootings in Newtown, Conn. Columnists, pundits and politicians will have opined, analyzed and commented. Graves will have been dug. Memorial services held. The initial shock and horror has faded, muted by holiday happenings. After all, life goes on and sorrow dims.

Senior year can be a hectic time for high school students. College applications must be mailed, senior project deadlines loom, plus there’s the daily grind of regular schoolwork. Imagine tackling all of that while raising 2-year-old twin boys.