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tuckova said:

“’make a list of three to ten things that you could think about that make you happy, that are productive, that are worth pondering…. i PROMISE you that just because obsessing over something feels all torturey and Victorian and inflexible, arduous, racking, brutal, chastening, fatiguing, and hair-shirty doesn’t mean that you are living some dramatic passionate poetic life.’

claude le monde is the boss of me. therefore:”

and I add my own three to ten things. Not that I’m feeling particularly hair-shirty lately, but I do love a list:

1. That feeling I get sometimes in church, when I suddenly stop and pay attention and take a big breath and it feels like my little stone of a heart is being squeezed and twisted and pushed out to make room for more.

2. The way fall makes me feel more. I get all emotional. Some people dread fall, and winter coming, and I know what you mean. But summer just kind of knocks me out. Fall brings me back.

3. Houses. They make me happy. Walking around my neighborhood and admiring various architectural features and paint colors and gardens and windows. Happy! And being in various houses, and the way they feel. Some cluttered and lived in. Others just make me jealous. Family pictures on the walls. Mugs of tea. Poppy’s dishes on display. Couches that you can sink into. Candles burning. Curtains. Signs of the people who live there. Kitchen tables.

4. Seeing other people happy. Engagements. Babies. Rings in toothbrush drawers and Sunday Schoolers who announce impending siblings by praying that “the baby stays in my mom’s tummy until it’s time to come out.”

5. A recent shopping trip to Hanna Andersson and all the deliciously soft cotton and cheerful colors. A most splendid dress was purchased for a certain small someone, my mom bought some baby things for friends of my brother and sister who are expecting. (Those would be my younger brother and sister.) There was a particularly cute but spendy pajama set that my mom had her eye on, and she was heard to utter the words, “If it were my grandchild…” (Insert eyeroll.) We also found some candy cane striped long johns for Lulu, lucky duck. We’ll blind the family with our stripedness on Christmas morning.

6. Baking season. Where you roll up your sleeves, pour yourself a glass of wine, and tipsilly throw together some Cowboy Cookies (plus coconut). On my list (because I have a baking list): peanut butter cake (once Poppy gives me the recipe), gingerbread (anyone have a good recipe?), carrot cake, and lemon bars. I’m also open to suggestions.

7. Getting into bed when I’m really tired. Maybe a hot water bottle. A cool room and a warm bed and knowing I don’t have to do anything for several hours. I’m not supposed to do anything!

Edited to add credit where credit is due, because I was too lazy to follow Anne’s links the first time around…

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Flickr Photos

Dinner success - the rare occasion when we eat exactly the same thing (except no hot salsa on his rice & beans).

Trucks, always trucks (and the water tables).

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