1. Snow. We got another ten inches this week. That along with extra cold negative temperatures inspired a midweek snow day for Eric — yay! I had made a funeral casserole the night before because I knew the cold and snow were coming, that something warm and delicious would be just the ticket. Eric stuck our Christmas tree in the snow burm of our side flower bed and the first morning I walked out and saw it there, I thought someone had planted a tree, like some sort of weird prank.

2. Working on my book. I haven’t said too much about it recently because a lot of other stuff came up and I sort of lost my way with it. I still write every day, no matter what, but I was in the weeds with the book project. It’s like making a collage, pulling pieces together not really knowing how it will all come together, where it will land. I’ve written so many pieces of it already and stored it away — on this blog, in files on multiple computers, in writing I’ve done with Laurie Wagner and my Friday morning writing sangha, and in the many many notebooks I’ve filled, even some of the recent conversations I’ve had with my therapist have led directly to writing. It can feel overwhelming and super confusing how to put it all together. This week I’ve been more actively working on it and it feels really really good.

3. Cooking, in particular trying something new. Eric and I have a favorite restaurant, Mount Everest Cafe, run by a Tibetan family. Their food is SO good. Eric and I made a few curry recipes this week to see if we could replicate some of our favorites. My eggplant curry turned out pretty good (not as good as Mount Everest) and Eric’s was weirdly bland for all the spices in it. It wasn’t a total fail, but we are ordering take out from Mount Everest this weekend to cleanse our palates.

4. Ringo being a jerk. Weird thing to be grateful for, yes? And yet, this past week he wasn’t feeling great, his arthritis was acting up and causing his front legs especially to ache. The way I knew it was beyond what he normally lives with is when things he always does that are super annoying — digging up the couch, humping the pillows, wanting to play, nudging me in the butt or nipping at my clothes to get me to pay attention, getting on our bed when I’m getting dressed for a walk to bark and sing and dig — weren’t happening. His physical therapy vet had some good ideas for how to help him and he’s feeling so much better … and being a total jerk. (Only the first of these pictures is from this week, the rest are simply examples of said behavior).

5. Morning walks. The one we took the day before the storm came supports my theory that the prettiest skies happen as a storm is rolling in.

6. My tiny family, tiny home, tiny life. How many times or ways can I say they and this are everything I ever wanted?

Bonus joy: Vaccines and pain meds and gummy supplements, snow tires and plows and shovels, ice scrapers, down and wool, a crunchy gala apple, apple pie filling as an oatmeal topper, dark chocolate covered caramel, house plants, sunshine, a big glass of cold water, a warm shower, clean sheets, pay day, the hydromassage chair, the pool, the sauna, the sound of our furnace, birds in the feeder, texting with Chloe’ and Mom and Chris, naps, good TV, listening to podcasts, finishing a book, starting another books, good music, that tiny little computer we call a smartphone that I can easily carry with me and use to access just about anything I need, a new dog treat pouch (I felt bad for needing another one until I realized it was at least six years old), blank notebooks and good pens, drinking a hot cup of coffee in front of my HappyLight while I write in the morning, raspberries, reading on my Kindle at night while Ringo and Eric sleep.

1. The river. I’ve always been lucky enough to live near water — rivers, lakes, the ocean (except for that year I lived in Arizona) — and I’m so happy that where I live now is so close to the river and multiple ponds. With the river in particular, I love to see how it changes through the seasons.

2. Morning walks. This week was colder, so on a few walks we waited until the sun came up to leave the house, missed the sunrise and walked in the full sun. Ringo’s arthritis was acting up, so we didn’t go quite as far and stayed on the paved trails, and one day we walked on the opposite side of the river than we normally do, so we had a whole new view.

3. Practice. Practicing both together (wild writing with my writing sangha, making art with Calyx, meditating with Chelsey, walking with Ringo) and alone. I’m also super grateful to have a therapist who comes from a similar background and understands the intention, the process, the view.

4. Content. Books, TV, movies, podcasts, and music. It would take me multiples lifetimes to consume it all, and sometimes that makes me sad. I suppose it also makes me more selective, more careful about what I choose to engage with. I’m also learning to skim or even quit if I’m not loving something, and choosing first the thing I’m the most excited about when I start anything new, which means I’m always engaged with the best, or at least it feels that way to me.

5. My tiny family, my tiny home, my tiny life. It’s everything I ever wanted.

Bonus joy: clean sheets, a warm shower, the new clocks I got, watercolors, gummies, vaccines, masks, telehealth, that corner of the couch, long hugs with Eric, the hydromassage chair, the pool, sitting in the sauna with Eric, my new gym bag, fry sauce, snow tires, snow, a big glass of clean cold water, apple pie oatmeal, raspberries, Ringo’s physical therapy vet and tech (really, all of Red Sage), pain medication, napping with Ringo, listening to podcasts, watching TV, listening to music, Elyse Myers on Instagram (she also has two albums that I really love), Joy Oladokun (so good!), birds at the feeder, squirrels at the compost pile, other people’s dogs and kids, reading in bed at night while Ringo and Eric sleep.