Thanksgiving. Some years I’ll take a few consecutive laps watching the card games in the dining room, naps/conversation in the living room, another group sprawled out watching football in the family room(s) and there’s always someone dishing up another helping of pie in the kitchen. It’s easily my favorite day of the year.
A can’t-help-myself kiss.
Lying on a beach, listening to waves crash and feeling the warm sun on my body. Coming home and lying in bed imagining I'm on a beach listening to waves crash.
Flowers—in a vase or in a garden, or even if I can just smell them so I know they’re around somewhere.
An unexpected laugh.
Shutting the door behind me as I walk out of my office Friday afternoon with the full weekend ahead of me.
Driving by LES (anytime, but especially during the spring) and turning off the radio. Shhh, can you hear it? Football memories make me smile.
A can’t-help-myself kiss.
Lying on a beach, listening to waves crash and feeling the warm sun on my body. Coming home and lying in bed imagining I'm on a beach listening to waves crash.
Flowers—in a vase or in a garden, or even if I can just smell them so I know they’re around somewhere.
An unexpected laugh.
Shutting the door behind me as I walk out of my office Friday afternoon with the full weekend ahead of me.
Driving by LES (anytime, but especially during the spring) and turning off the radio. Shhh, can you hear it? Football memories make me smile.
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