A Few Good Things
1. Men of character. Men who live their lives honourably, noblemen who keep their word even when it would be much easier to forget promises made. Like a certain motorcycle riding social studies teacher who told me in Wal-Mart a couple of weeks ago that he's delayed his retirement until my youngest son makes it through high school. He is keeping a promise he made to a sick friend: a promise to keep an eye on his friend's son at school, a promise to make sure he stays out of trouble there.
2. A strong, hot, savoured cup of coffee. Quality coffee, freshly ground, made in a Bodum coffee maker, served black, as all good coffee ought to be. If you are like me, and you break your Bodum pots more regularly than you can afford to replace them, then a Tim Horton's drip coffee maker (that's a Bunn to the rest of the world) will serve almost as well.
3. A rainy day. The sort that requires a bit of lamp light all day long, hides poor housekeeping, and makes cluttered look cosy. The kind of day that makes you want to stay home and bake. Or drink coffee. Like today.
4. A used book store. One that's musty smelling, and slightly disorganized, but not so disorganized that you can't find a hidden gem or two. One that has lots of hardbacks in among the paperbacks, and prices low enough that you can leave with an armful when you find an armful of gems.
5. Garage sales, but only those that are organized, with everything carefully priced. Not those that are little more than an attempt to avoid a dump run, but ones with items for sale that have a bit of history, like old plates and tools and lamps and wool blankets.
6. Sons. Daughters are good things, too, but I was one of those, and I also had a sister, so I'm more experienced with girls growing into women. Sons, though, still amaze me as they grow to take on more and more responsibility, as they quietly pick up the slack where they see it without being asked. Sons who are becoming men of character.
7. A porch. One with an adirondack chair, where I can sit outside on a rainy day, have my morning cup of coffee, and think about the good things in my life.
2. A strong, hot, savoured cup of coffee. Quality coffee, freshly ground, made in a Bodum coffee maker, served black, as all good coffee ought to be. If you are like me, and you break your Bodum pots more regularly than you can afford to replace them, then a Tim Horton's drip coffee maker (that's a Bunn to the rest of the world) will serve almost as well.
3. A rainy day. The sort that requires a bit of lamp light all day long, hides poor housekeeping, and makes cluttered look cosy. The kind of day that makes you want to stay home and bake. Or drink coffee. Like today.
4. A used book store. One that's musty smelling, and slightly disorganized, but not so disorganized that you can't find a hidden gem or two. One that has lots of hardbacks in among the paperbacks, and prices low enough that you can leave with an armful when you find an armful of gems.
5. Garage sales, but only those that are organized, with everything carefully priced. Not those that are little more than an attempt to avoid a dump run, but ones with items for sale that have a bit of history, like old plates and tools and lamps and wool blankets.
6. Sons. Daughters are good things, too, but I was one of those, and I also had a sister, so I'm more experienced with girls growing into women. Sons, though, still amaze me as they grow to take on more and more responsibility, as they quietly pick up the slack where they see it without being asked. Sons who are becoming men of character.
7. A porch. One with an adirondack chair, where I can sit outside on a rainy day, have my morning cup of coffee, and think about the good things in my life.
posted by Rebecca Stark at 9/04/2004 09:10:00 AM
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