Do you really love rainy days, droplets running down the window as the reflection of the candle flickers on the glass? The dark skies, the flashes of lightening and the crackle and rumble of thunder? Or, is rain just not your thing?
Do you love baths? Sinking into a deep tub of hot water, steam on the mirrors and some nice Michael-Bubble-ish music softly playing. Do you love your baths with rich oils or salts or do you love to surround yourself with masses and masses of bubbles? Or, does the thought of sitting in a tub of water mixed with your own dirt make you shiver with disgust?
What do you really love?
I love sipping tea in my favorite cup. It is big and handcrafted, with a good sized handle, not those little sissy handles you can only hold with your fingertips. The potter carved a whimsical character, part woman, part bird flying through the sky along side the stars, a carving I am sure makes the tea (or soup) so much more scrumptious.
I love drinking a full-bodied Merlot from a small hand-blown glass, a glass with bubbles still in the glass, tumbler style, no skinny uppity stem to hold the glass "the correct way." Just the little glass, a little not-perfect, not quite round, thick glass. Alongside my little tumbler of Merlot, I love thin slices of good parmesan cheese. Not thin enough to see through or fall apart when you lift the slice to your lips but thin enough to see the light of the salt lamps on the hearth. Of course, there will be a couple of pieces of sourdough garlic bread on the plate because that, I also love!
I love sitting in the living room and listening to the conversations of my grown children in the family room. I love the humor, the intelligence, the love...did I mention humor...of those wonderful beings. Was it really so long ago that they were just twinkles in their daddy's eyes?
I love driving. I love being behind the wheel of the car, mirrors custom set to me and what I want to see. I love the feel of that seat belt, snug but not too tight. I don't love cruise control, yuck! So passive, so disconnected from the road, the journey, the experience. I like my left leg bent so my left foot rests on the seat, my hands at 10:00 and 2:00, like my dad taught me, my left arm resting on my knee and the window sill.
Asphalt disappearing under me, the little mirages up ahead.
I love to read while my husband rests his head in my lap. I love to run my fingers through his hair and I love the smile on his sleeping face while I do so.
I love the smell of coffee beans, lavender, new pencils, lemons and oranges, dirt, first rain, sandlewood, patchouli and my husband after he's been working in the yard. I love trees, I love clouds, I love the feel of old, old shirts, old sheets and old jeans. I love sharp pencils, climbing trees, sitting on big rocks with my feet in the creek. I love children's hands and old hands, holding hands and giving a hand.
I love the dishwasher to be empty when I go to load it. I love to fold the towels fresh out of the dryer.
I love it when I find an old book at a used book store that has writing in the margins and underlined and highlighted sentences here and there.
I love over-sized sweaters and soft pajamas and I especially love that my pajamas are for lounging around in, not for sleeping (wink wink nudge nudge).
I love my little rice pillow that I warm up in the microwave before bed and keep at the foot of the bed to warm our toes while we sleep.
What do you love?