Simple Joys

I admit it.   I am simple.  It doesn't take much to lift my spirits or make me smile or laugh.  LIfe is full of simple joys.

I still remember the inscription on a little white ceramic box that was given to me as a child.  On the lid of the box it said, "Life's greatest pleasures..." and on the inside bottom of the box, next to a little ladybug, it said, "are its small and simple treasures."  It is true.  I feel lucky that I am able to feel joy from life's little things.  Just today, well before noon, I've already experienced such simple joys in the world around me.

I enjoyed a cup of hot coffee this morning, care of my wonderful sister, Cyndi, who gave it to me for my birthday.  It is a yummy caramel hazelnut from Harry and David's.  Mmmm.... what a pleasure it is to sip on a cool spring morning.

A pair of mourning doves visited my tray feeder, only inches from my vantage point at the window.  Though they saw me, they trusted me enough to stay and dine.  One was mainly gray and beige and the other was a peach-gold and gray.  Their eyes, encircled in white, blinked at me.  Their lovely red feet were bright under their soft and muted feathers.

I polished my nails in bright gold-copper, a wonderful "girl gift" from my sister, Diana, (I know, what wonderful sisters I have, eh?) and dressed in a lacy, pale pink top today.  I know I'm not young, and I'm definitely not pretty.  But for a few moments, I felt as close as I could come, and it was sweet!

While I was in the coffee shop, a little boy, around five years old, walked straight up to me without hesitation.  He peered up at me and said, "Hello.  My name is Oliver."  It was a short conversation, but I was struck by the innocence, trust and curiosity that was in his dark brown eyes.  I reached out and tousled his hair just before he turned to leave the shop with his mom.  He waved goodbye with the brightest smile.  I had met a little boy named Oliver, and I felt immense gratitude for that.

Someone let me out in traffic at an intersection which is notoriously challenging to navigate.  To top it off, the other driver flashed me a smile and waved.  That most simple courtesy really warmed my heart.

I hung a hummingbird plate above my kitchen sink this morning and was surprised to see what a perfect fit it was.  It was a plate that my father had given my mother.  She loved hummingbirds.  The plate features a pair of hummers, both feathered in vivid emerald green and ruby red.  To the left of the plate are my dark green dishtowels. To the right are my red pot holders.  What a match and not at all planned or thought of in advance.  Funny how well it worked out, even for someone like me, who hates knick-knacks.

Standing outside in our yard, I felt a fine mist of cool rainwater on my face.  It was delicious and refreshing, one of best natural facials ever, compliments of Mother Nature.

Ariel, my cat, was napping on the floor in her usual corner of my office, always near me as I write.  I kneeled by her for a few pets and kissed her head.  She made a little growl sound, stretched, yawned and reached out one paw, curling it around my fingers and pulling my hand to her face where she proceeded to kiss it.  I am so loved.



I finally managed to find a way to get our three rugs in the front hall to stay down on the carpeting.  It's called Rhino double-sided tape, and I'm ecstatic.  The simple joy of not having to straighten these rugs half a dozen times a day is immeasurable.


As I brought in the mail this afternoon, I stopped and listened to the whispering northern pines across the street.  There is a long, double row of them that borders our neighbor's yard.  Such soothing music they make as their soft branches float up and down in the wind.  A pair of great horned owls often perch in these pines; they call to each other at night. We can hear them from our porch all spring, summer and fall.

It was getting cooler by late afternoon, so I put on my Dad's yellow sweater. It keeps me warm and reminds me of him.  It feels safe, just like Daddy.

My husband, David, gave me an extra long, extra loving hug when he got home from work.  He said, "I love you so much I could squeeze the stuffin's out of ya."  In that moment, I would have gladly sacrificed my "stuffin's" just to return the simple joy his words brought to my heart.

Ahhh... life's simple pleasures.  What would we do without them?