clothes fresh from the dryer, the japanese maple in our front yard (currently a brilliant fiery red), ava's new pixie cut, music by the shins (chutes too narrow please because I cannot get enough), my husky/scratchy/raspy head cold voice (that I wish I could keep forever), freshly painted toes in crimson (thank you amy), sugar lemon soap , this birthday/christmas wish list (that was loads of fun to make), ava's super enthusiastic nightly discoveries of planet venus and all the stars, these bright colored photos (that make me want to lick the computer screen), strawberries dipped in chocolate, paper snowflake-making (with the ava-girl), a dance class high, the promise of a red velvet cake, ezra walking around with boots on his hands, the scent of freshly cut christmas tree, the possibility of a tuesday night trip to star bar (whereupon I will dance with lovely dancer friends to the likes of double dutch bus and come home with clothes drenched in sweat), recently thrifted knee-high boots, a new season of project runway (I can't wait, people), ward's new beard (which I am weak in the knees over), this christmas album by my bro (original album cover art by this totally hot guy I know), the possibility of a road trip to see this art exhibit, the unconditional love heaped on me daily via sloppy kisses, frantic squeezes and much bum rushing.
I'll not front. the title here was indeed inspired by the good times theme song. ain't we lucky we got em? you know you want to sing the song now, don't fight it.