286/365

recently:

first of the banana bread in the oven
marigolds in tomato cans having a moment
shades up while we sleep so moonlight can spill through the windows

282/365

small pleasures, part eleven:

paper fans
cats in sunspots
lemon slices in cold water
the cool side of the pillow
freshly folded laundry
small flirtations
bubbles

242/365

things I took as good signs today, signs that things are going to be okay:

the bright red cardinal that swooped across the windshield of my car as I drove home
the goldfinch that landed on one of the last of my sunflowers and stayed for a little bit
the check that showed up in our mailbox, for work already done, that we had (unbelievably) completely forgotten about

232/365

thoroughly delighting me:

bon bon wrappers
this david bowie barbie doll
this fresh crepe vending machine

221/365

things that delighted me today:

the idea that bibliotherapy exists
portraits made with the thick smudges of palette knives
the minuscule praying mantis that stared up at me from beneath a sunflower leaf

191/365

small pleasures, part eight:

seashells
fortune cookies
airplane window seats
the first five minutes of a hot bath
freshly sharpened pencils
the smell of rain
fake accents

190/365

the week in wonders:

ladybug swarms
public punching bags
fruit sticker artistry
furry neon caves
bread cameras

189/365

excuses I have made (and will probably continue to make) to eat donuts:

it's the first day of school
it's the last day of school
it's my birthday
it's your birthday
it's been a hard day
it's been a good day
it's monday
it's tuesday
it's wednesday
it's thursday
it's friday
it's saturday
it's sunday
it's national donut day

(happy national donut day, lovers)

180/365

on repeat today:

sufjan's new song
the the first official trailer for a film based on a book I love, a book I love so, so much

173/365

things I treated myself to today:

a cold bottle of topo chico
another packet of zinnia seeds
a jar of bonne maman lemon curd
the last fifteen minutes of the last episode of fleabag (season two) whilst eating a tiny cupcake

160/365

sounds recently heard, noted, enjoyed:

a cassette tape rewinding
ezra asleep in the next room
the hiss of the kettle
the heaviest rain
a thunderous gaggle of kids at the art museum
birds in the backyard
joni mitchell on vinyl
a million migrating monarch butterflies
the faint ring-ring of ava's bicycle bell as she rode up the driveway

the grinding of coffee beans (because, I know what this means)

148/365

things that helped me survive this week:

the beginning of a small raised bed garden
spring polaroid week
cardinal sightings

139/365

small pleasures, part seven:

bicycle bells
whistling tea kettles
bundles of ranunculus
the moment the photobooth spits out your strip
tiny paper umbrellas
the last doughnut
blue hour

133/365

things worth celebrating this glorious friday:

level seventeen reached in french
solid foods now properly digestible
ava's art scholarship

(AVA'S ART SCHOLARSHIP!)

120/365

the only life hacks I'm really interested in:

juice from jars of maraschino cherries poured directly into glasses of lemonade
chocolate cake stuffed inside empty jam jars for smuggling into movie theatres
canvas drop cloths at the ready to throw over any messes I no longer wish to look at and/or deal with

114/365

small pleasures, part six:

birthday candles
empty bonne maman jam jars
book stacks
car singing
shower singing
maraschino cherries
motel neon

99/365

things that are free, part one:

walks
libraries
flowers that grow wild along the highway
those tiny cups of coffee at trader joe's

the swings at the park

window-shopping

people-watching
bike rides

95/365

things I want to remember about february:

the discovery of cara cara oranges

the discovery of a secret entrance to the creek

geese wandering in suburban shopping mall parking lots

overheard conversations in the lobby of the hotel clermont

losing myself in films and documentaries for an entire week

long walks in the neighborhood

a love letter to my library

a valentine in my mailbox from my friend gudrun

the tree in front, slowly exploding with cotton white blooms

the look on ezra's face when I gave him a beater covered in pink frosting

the look on ava's face while visiting an excellent college art department

takeout chinese and cherry cider and fortune cookies on valentines day

small embroidered daisies found at salvation army for a dollar, promptly added to the gallery wall

double dutch bus vinyl found at an old used book store for three dollars, promptly put into heavy rotation

branches cut from trees in the backyard, brought inside and put in jars

dollar store candles lining my mantle

the inordinate amount of cakes I baked 

the making of my first roux

the saturday night my dad drove all the way from illinois to surprise me

a pot of tea with scones and clotted cream and jam

winter hammock swinging

christmas lights up on the front of the house, still

93/365

small pleasures, part five:

postcards
paint chips
old school motel room keys
bubble gum machines
warm bath robes
toasted marshmallows
the smell of bread baking

90/365

three things saving me from a deep and widening black hole of despair today:

the shawl vault that, of course, belongs to stevie knicks
the thought of a small child named volodia documenting a 1924 soviet leningrad with an unwieldy large format camera
the idea that scenes like this exist, in real life, in the world we live in, they exist