Smoking confounds me

Almost every morning I wake up, make myself a coffee, head over to the couch to catch up on the world, and as I pass our balcony window, I have a direct view down to my neighbour's balcony across from us. My neighbour is out there smoking 94.5% of the times that I do this morning ritual. Grit is her name, and she is the local that has been in the are forever and everyone knows her. A shock of white/grey hair, a roaring laugh tinged with the crust of her addiction, you are 72.4% likely to see Grit with a cigarette in her hand if you see her out in the street. She's great. One day I was feeling particularly saddened by the world and my state in it, so I went over the street to our local cafe which has a gorgeous sun-drenched, south-facing terrace facing onto a large open grassy lot, to drink a coffee and enjoy being by myself, when I see Grit come into the lot with six puppies and their mum, Snowy. Of course I had to go and say hi and play with the puppies. There's almost nothing as…