Today I love afternoon road trips. I love that part of our road trip includes dinner with friends. I love that the morning will be spent getting things done so that the afternoon won’t be one of stress. I love that my weekends are three days long now, though I still work on Mondays and even Saturdays and Sundays. I love that half of the weekend’s “break” is attitude and perspective and the other half is the company I keep. I love weekends and the way they used to make me feel, still make me feel retrospectively. I love that this weekend saw us accomplish so many things already, getting earth for the garden, saving the old geranium plant, fencing off the veggie gardens, playing music, supporting music, cleaning up the breakfast nook now that that rowdy crew of plants has moved outdoors for the summer season. I love that we’re not done yet, and I really love that I hope we never will be. I love that as a child I used to hate doing chores on weekends until I suddenly realized that it was my family working together to make things better, and that made it all as right as it could be.
Today I love that I still make bad jokes and laugh louder than others do at them. I love that sometimes my jokes are so juvenile that I get eye rolls or even the look over the glasses and that’s when I know I’ve done it right. I love that all so much, but what I really love is when the look or the eye roll starts, but then she laughs because either she thinks my laughing at my own jokes is really funny or my joke was actually funny and she can’t help herself. I love laughter, mine will do, but I love hers even more.
Today I love oranges that have a mature, almost bitter taste that reminds me a little bit of grapefruit. I love that I started out writing on the front porch but the rain drove me in. I love mixing cold cereal from different boxes, a little of each into one bowl. I love how the smallest of creatures are often the bravest, a chipmunk will run over your foot, a finch will land on your chair arm sometimes and a chickadee will light in your hand if you have food for it, a bear is so frightened that it will stay out of your way and if you surprise it it will attack you first, completely out of fear. I love my friends who are as brave as chickadees, and I love the bear friends who are working on becoming chickadees.
Today I love drinking coffee on the front porch until the rain starts falling sideways, and contemplating the ancient geranium that looks like it has been saved for another ten years or so.