Plenty happy

This is another blog that has been sitting in draft since the holidays. Originally titled, "I want for my life...", it was meant to be a list of goals, a refresher on the circumstances I'm aiming for, something I could reread for encouragement or direction.

I've always wanted a home (just like this one!), be it simple and small, in a river town. I'd like it to be surrounded by white lilacs and apple blossoms because these smells make me happy. In this house, I'd like to have a family, which includes a husband, two or so children, two or so dogs. A deck for sunlit pedicures and a bonfire ring for late-night friendship. I'd like a small space for my music, a place where I, and whichever child inherits the music bug, could sing and play without inhibition or fear of reproach. A space to do my yoga or my kickboxing with that same freedom. It needs a phenomenal kitchen, of course, one with plenty of counter space. Nearby, a clearing in the woods to write in, a riverbank to walk along. If I have to go to work later that day, I want to look forward to it. Simple goals that most days seem so great, so far away.

Spring is on the wind, you know what I mean? I almost cried with joy when I opened my windows again for the first time last week. I haven't been terribly happy living in an apartment for the last 10 months, but something about the arrival of spring makes all of that misery fade away. I fell asleep to rainfall the other night (how I love that!) and took my first walk of the season yesterday evening. And I know it's not like I've never blogged before about all the walking details that fill my spirit with such joy, but seriously - I must look like an idiot, obviously aiming for a workout, but grinning ear to ear for no apparent reason.

For the chorus of birdies singing through my wide-open windows. For the smell of grilling on patios. For the goose who was standing on the roof of my 3-story building, scolding all who jogged, rode, or played below - he cracked me up! For the little boy who opened the door to the building for me: "Here, you look tired and I know you live here." For balloons and cards - no more leftover cake, phew! - from people who made turning the corner into 30 so much less painful. I'll even go so far as to mention the laundry - I love the warm, clean-smelling sheets I get to sleep in tonight!

For all this, for a steady job, general financial security, for my appreciative heart, I thank You, Lord. It hurts, but I can wait for my family. I can wait for the house. In the meantime, thanks for reminding me that there is much to be happy about - today.