Such great things to love.
I'll add the others that com...
Such great things to love.
I'll add the others that come in and announce the winner on the 22nd. It will be hard to choose. They are all so good.
I've clipped a few in half and spread them through. And there were one or two that weren't phrased to fit so I've clipped them.
I hope that's okay. And if your one should be there and it's not, please tell me.
And lastly, thank you. It made for a beautiful afternoon, reading all of them.
here are the things we love. So far.
Stunningly cold winter mornings, hands wrapped in mittens made by an old friend's mother, throat still burning from scalding coffee, and listening to Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson sing, "I still believe in summer days."
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Entering a bookstore, any bookstore, big or small. The feeling that I get, this uncontainable swell of being surrounded by a ton of books waiting to be opened and read.
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Getting a parking spot right out front
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Gold summer on her lips
And cold snow above her skin
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I love the scratch of the paper as the lines loop and swoop and pull through, connecting letters to words and words to phrases and phrases to sentences, connecting writer to reader; sharing thoughts and love and struggle and triumph – writing is more than just expression, but an opening and an offering to the outside.
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Words and the fact that you can create something out of nothing from them… the way that some combinations soar and others collide unevenly but that no matter what, something is being said and it can have an infinite number of meanings.
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I love happy hour
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I love the possibility of something really great happening
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Snuggling in bed with my son, his head upon my shoulder, listening intently as I read and watching him fall in love with the magic of Harry Potter for the first time
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Watching the sky. It was all stormy and windy yesterday but today it's a clear blue
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The dance within my body is a force fighting to get out and what you see is me succumbing to the movement; breaking free and colliding all in one breath
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Rabbits.
And my own ghost. I would really love my own ghost.
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Making a playlist that almost seems to have a thread connecting your iPod and your heart.
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Lying in the sun, soaking up the energy, feeling the warmth spread over my skin.
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The moment before I open my eyes, but after I wake up
When I hear the murmurings of my parents and my brothers downstairs,
And I realize with absolute joy that it is the weekend and that maybe I can roll over once more and doze off before I join them.
***
The smell of Lemon Verbena… a plant in my Nan's garden from long ago.
Reminds me of the fun times playing acrobatics in her yard (Nan was an agile fit Nan even towards the end.) We would crush it as we cart wheeled about
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I love when I pick up a book and know that I could lose myself, even if only for a short time, in a world that is more amazing than Earth alone.
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I love watching Lulu stick her head out if the car window
I love watching her tail wag
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I love films where the teenage kid and the parent swap bodies
Gelati in the winter time
And the taste of a really good chai latte
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I love that even though I live far from my family, spend too much time without my hubby, sometimes have to raise our boys as a "single parent", and have moved three times in the past 5 years, I am endlessly proud of his job as a Solider and all we've accomplished individually as together.
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Mum's homemade meatballs
Popcorn with lots of salt
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I love skipping
Well sometimes
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I love that there are other people in this world who share my passion for reading.
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My collection of Cabbage Patch Kids – because their cute dimples and 'I want a hug' arms listen, even when their little clothe ears don't.
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I love him even though he can be a pain, when loading the washing machine. When doing my revision on my desk, in my room and when sweeping the floor with a broom. He is as cunning as a top class thief and God forbid but I am afraid, curiosity may well be his death.
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Holding my dog's head in the palms of my hands and staring into her big brown eyes while my face is barely an inch away from hers.
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I love the stars, the way they are always there yet you can never tell if they are the same as the night before, it feels like you can lie beneath them forever.
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I love the tingle in my tastebuds as the bitter red releases from its berry form and dissolves slowly down my throat, coating it with freshness.
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That JOLT, as you realise that for those few hours-minutes-seconds of reading, you were in another world; and it was completely worth it.
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Stars.
Pizza served by beautiful Italian boys
And the smell of rain
