I turned 37 this month and right around the big day, I made a list of 37 things that made 36 great and that I hope for more of in the coming year. In no particular order...
1. Reading: Whether it's an entire book in a day or a lazy chapter in a comfy spot or finding a surprisingly charming essay where you least expected it, like Christopher Kimball's editorials in
Cook's Illustrated magazine.
2. Scenic overlooks and rearview mirror sunsets on my commute home.
3. My step-daughter's verbalized internal monologues, most of the time.
4. The former hamburger drive-thru joint turned locally-owned tiny coffee shop opened by a couple who cashed out their 401k to make their dream come true. It's one of the only charming things on our otherwise charmless main drag of crumbling mid-century strip malls of the suburbs.
5. Lazy mornings and the quiet of my neighborhood on weekend mornings when no buses, trash trucks, or sirens disturb the peace.
6. Brits and Au Marche in downtown Lawrence and every Ten Thousand Villages store everywhere (and other places like these).
7. Hobbits with their meal plans and hobbit holes.
8. A couple of cottages in our neighborhood, also bungalows with deep front porches, dormer windows and porch swings.
9. Summer thunderstorms and winter snows.
10. Crocuses and "ditch lilies" (and the wonderful people who I first heard say ditch lilies when referring to day lilies).
11. Just the right amount of caffeine and just the right amount of alcohol.
12. David Suchet as Hercule Poirot.
13. Herbal tea, sun tea and sweet tea.
14. Soup and hot dishes in all their wondrous variety.
15. Breakfasts: whether it's scones and earl gray or biscuits and gravy with chow chow.
16. Stuff my mom makes: rows of canned tomato juice, salsa, marinara sauce and green beans, a grapevine wreath with silk flowers, my Christmas and Easter dresses as a little girl, knitted dishcloths and crochet scrubbies.
17. My dad's stories of childhood hijinx.
18. My husband's stories about things like not knowing that pickles were cucumbers and tasting soy candles because they smelled good and you can eat soy.
19. The way one of my childhood friend's eyes have always shined when she's stretching the truth for the sake of a good story.
20. The family farm, which is more sinkholes than farmland.
21. Outside chores: stacking wood, pulling weeds, mowing the grass, burying half-decomposed compost, raking leaves, picking up sticks, etc.
22. Caves
23. Town squares.
24. Nature.
25. Using a spoon or whisk instead of the mixes, using a rake instead of the leaf blower, walking.
26. Small things in jars: beads, marbles, dried beans.
27. Memories and stories of my grandparents: a tidbit that my grandmother referred to the WPA as "we piddle along," my grandpa's cane and the story about the time he spit his false teeth out of the window of his car.
28. Convertible sofas folded out just because you want a space to dogpile while watching tv in your pajamas.
29. Christmas and making cozy during cold weather.
30. Cocoon-like spaces: hammocks, tiny houses, closets, tents, appliance boxes, blanket forts.
31. NPR radio shows.
32. Anything arranged by color to make a rainbow: a closet full of clothes, shelves of books, skittles, skeins of yarn, paint chip displays.
33. Fixing things and recycling what is unfixable and wearing my super awesome patchy pants to run errands.
34. Old jeans that are one size too big, layered t-shirts, grandpa cardigans.
35. Big bowls full of fruit and pillar candles and flowers and candy dishes.
36. Amy Poehler and Tina Fey.
37. Public transportation.
