Love, love, love

I saw this over at e.b.’s world and decided I needed to shine my love light too. I’ve been far too grumpy and serious as of late.

I love Thursdays, the gloaming, and the sound of rain hitting the window. I love warm french bread with salty butter, roasted beets in my salad and peanut butter on my banana. I love how Finn plays hide and seek, how he lifts one shoulder in a shrug, and how he says my cat’s name, “Dasssssssssssshhh.” I love scarves and hats and fitted jackets. I love windy days where the clouds race past and the trees bend like yogis.

I love the roar of the ocean and the briny smell after a storm. I love sand stuck between my toes and roller coasters and sailboats lazily drifting by. I love chocolate cake with ice cream melted and all mashed together. I love handwritten cards and surprise packages and anything crafty. I love smiling at strangers. I love how the freckles on my arm form the shape of an emoticon face and the smattering of moles on my left thigh look like a constellation.

I love how it feels when The Fella holds my hand.

I love office supplies and post its and pens that write really well. I love dahlias and tulips and sunflowers; the fragrance of tuberoses and oriental lilies and the slow, deliberate opening of a rose. I love chunky jewelry and broaches and big rings. I love the way a typewriter sounds and the low thunder of the train whistle. I love cracking open a new book. I love black and white pictures, photo booths and poetry magnets for the fridge. I love my Mom’s hands and my Dad’s block lettered handwriting.

I love IKEA soft serve ice cream, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and popcorn with brewer’s yeast sprinkled on top. I love how the sidewalk smells after a hard rain in summer. I love the satisfaction of a clean house, where everything is in its place and the smell of Windex and Murphy’s Oil lingers in the air. I love Etta James’s bluesy growl, Dexter Gordon’s soulful sax, the weathered tenderness of Joni Mitchell’s voice and the beautiful union that is The Weepies.

I love mountains with snow on them and seeing the lights of downtown Seattle as I drive in from my sister’s house. I love the sound of my cats purring. I love birthdays and fireworks and road trips with great tunes to sing along to. I love tacos and beer, sushi and hot sake and the occasional night of indulging in too many whiskey and cokes. I love hearing people sing when they don’t know anyone is listening. I love words and poetry and Scrabble and crossword puzzles.

I love tea with milk and sugar in it. Breakfast with toast. Lunch on the patio in the sunshine with iced tea. Leisurely dinner parties where time just gets away from us. I love art and creativity and people bold enough to speak their mind. I love David Sedaris, Jonathan Safran Foer, Barbara Kingsolver and Nikki Giovanni. I love Morgan Freeman’s voice and the color red. I love the cha cha, swing dancing and flamenco guitar.

I love the cello and Schubert and the idea of a summer home by the lake. I love Mexico and all it gave to me. I love my sister’s throw-back-your-head laugh. I love cheese. I love bulldogs and long walks and birds on a wire. I love birch trees and pussy willows and blowing on dandelions to make a wish. I love singing “Happy Birthday” and “Dream a Little Dream of Me.” I love possibility and hope.

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