I think about this Delight project a lot. I go through the day eyeing my delights, thinking about the topic. Many times writing about the big important things; the benchmarks to who am, tend to overwhelm me and I know will take time to compose. The fun about Delights is that the topic just hits me out of the blue.

My dear lovely tribe enveloped me with flowers for my birthday. My goodness it was fabulous! Boxes of beautiful blooms delivered down the long driveway of the 20. I was in heaven.

Two weeks later, some of my roses are sad and my daisies are a little puny. Some would throw the whole arrangement out but I cannot. Somewhere in that slightly stinky, once beautiful arrangement, is an alstroemeria bloom yelling, “I’m not dead yet!”

My most favorite place in the grocery store is the cart of flowers in the florist section that are past their expiration date- a dozen roses can go for $4. Sunflowers that might not be so sunny….$2! When I am feeling a little splurgy, I grab several past-their-prime bouquets at the grocery store and set them next to the angel hair pasta.

There are little gems- a gerbera daisy in full bloom, tea roses that are still fresh, sunflowers that have quite a lot of rays.

And a new arrangement now sits on our table….delightful

Thursday is trash day. Trash Day is usually not a big deal but sometimes on the 20, little things take on a bigger meaning. It’s about 1/4 of a mile from our house to where the trash truck meets us therefore trash day requires a little preplanning, not a lot but a little reminder the night before….tomorrow is trash day.

The trash truck usually arrives at 6:59 Thursday morning…..on the dot.

My delight is not really about the trash guy, although he does seem like a nice, very prompt person and I really, really appreciate him carting off my garbage,

But sky. The sky at 6:59 in the morning. Delightful.

The moon was setting in the West, bidding adieu to another night.

But to the East!

This symphony of color lasted only minutes. Soon the yellows, reds and glorious pinks had faded, the rooster next door starting crowing and a new day started.

And while the world woke up, the trash man kindly took my bin, gave me a nod and moved onto the next house.

Delightful.

This year the snow has been scarce. Given that Colorado relies on a good snowpack for our water, it’s concerning. But this post is not about concern. This post is about delight.

It snowed today and is still snowing on the 20. I love the monochrome of winter; white snow, brown bare branches, white steamy breath; beauty in naked simplicity.

It is cold and snowing.

It is time for a swim.

I stand on deck and take off my swim coat, fuzzy fleece pants and winter hat. Last to go are the furry slippers. I love those furry slippers. Without them, my bare feet stand in an inch of snow; reminding me to hurry up. I jump. In an instant, I go from dry and cold to submerged.

The water is a balmy 81. Its warm but not toasty. I have to move.

By the third lap, I have warmed up. My feet are no longer yelling at me. My arms go from cool to warm with every stroke. Snowflakes gather on my swim cap. I cannot see the other side of the pool through the foggy steam.

Why do I love this so much? It’s kinda nuts.

I do believe it is the thrill of being so vulnerable. Standing in a snowstorm in a swim suit or worse, convincing soaked Heather to get out of the pool in 21 degree weather.

Perhaps its more than that- the thrill of being slightly uncomfortable in the elements when we are so confined to our own indoors right now. It might be the very simple silence- me and my thoughts and my breath.

No matter. It is delightful. Hello Day 19.

Dodie was my paternal Grandmother. There was always something about Dodie- her style, her martini, her clothes, her hair…….it did not matter that she lived in small town Plano, Illinois, she lived her life dressed for the paparazzi.

I still carry her pocketbooks. I open the latch and inhale the 70 year old scent of cigarettes and perfume. I place my face close to the fabric.

“Ah. Hello Dodie.” She is right there, on my arm, in my pocketbook and so very excited I decided to take her out on the town.

Dodie was married to Popa; a cigar smoking, martini drinking, joke telling rascal. If I know only one true thing in this world, I know I was outrageously loved by my Papa and Dodie.

I know this to be true.

Tonight my Dad and Cynde presented with a photo book. It is a book of my 50 years on this earth. I love this book because its ALL ABOUT ME….but more than that, it is about me and the people who have been in my life. Here or not here. What an amazing journey our life is.

All of this book is a delight but tonight I will focus on the awesomeness of Popa and Dodie photos:

I love this photo of Dodie. Pearls, startched white shirt, awesome sunglasses, cigarette, quaffed hair….wait….”what the F*ck is in my nail? Dammit all to hell.”

I want to put an old fashioned on her chair.

Dodie is on the left. I think I would like to have a martini with her and go out dancing. My Great Grandma Katie is on the right. And my Popa in the middle. Popa looks pretty happy.

And THIS one! Papa started a company called Simms Toys. They made the first plastic Batmobile. And sold quite a lot of them. He looks very humble in this photo. I would like to think internally he is thinking, “Holy crap, I made it. Just call me Robin.”

These photos. These photos of the people who came before me and their awesomeness. Well, it brings me delight.

Eating spaghetti with a four year old is delightful. I encourage you to do this as often as possible. Spaghetti is difficult for any adult to eat with grace- a four year old just dives in with vigor and a sprinkling of parmesan cheese.

Last night I celebrated my birthday with the nephews. They made me homemade cards. Go make a homemade card. It’s delightful.

I also got a $50 bill! In this world of digital interaction, paper delights me. Paper money is even more delightful.

Littlest nephew handed me two items – my birthday card and a yellow index card. The yellow index card was folded up into a tiny square, very super-secret like. I was told I could open the birthday card immediately but the super-secret index card had to wait until we opened presents. The super-secret index card waited by the spaghetti…..giddy with anticipation.

Finally it was time. He moved over to watch me open…..and I was presented with this….

“Well,” I said. “This. This is amazing. Is this me?”

Little Nephew rolled his eyes and gave a little pshaw, “No Hehe”, (they call me Hehe…..another delight), “this is Joe Biden. Joe Biden became President today. Joe is standing by the flag.”

Side note delight……you know how little kids sometimes don’t have their ‘L’s’ quite enunciated? So ‘little’ sounds a bit like ‘wittle’. He looked at me quite seriously with those big brown eyes and said, “This is Joe Biden, standing by the Flwag.”

This kid. I loved how he soaked the events of yesterday- so much so it had to be presented on a yellow index card after dinner.

I also got a bottle of peanut butter whiskey which I have been told is amazeballs and an amazing t-rex shirt…..both to be discussed at a later date. We still have a lot of delights to post- 348 more to be exact.

Go eat spaghetti!

The Oxford Dictionary defines Democracy as:

Government by the people; that form of government in which the sovereign power resides in the people as a whole, and is exercised either directly by them or by officers elected by them.

You may not agree that America is functioning as a Democracy, in response I ask you to find a country that works harder to bring so many different people, cultures and communities together under one nation. 332 Million souls in this great country. 332 Million different experiences, opinions and ways of life. 332 Million voices.

And you may not be happy with the transfer of power taking place tomorrow. This post is not about ideology- its about the process.

The cool thing is that you have four years to make your case and work for your change because the sovereign power resides in the people as a whole.

Democracy. I am Delighted.

I love to organize my socks.

I pull all of my socks out of the drawer, pair everyone up, help lost socks find their mate and neatly fold them back.

Well, I wont have to do that for a while, I think and I go about the rest of my days, my weeks and my months.

Sooner or later, my sock drawer grows chaotic and demands attention. It wasn’t that I was ignoring the sock drawer. But sometimes I am naive enough to think that after I smugly fold the last sock, I have fixed the issue. If I address the chaos in my sock drawer one time, the issue of unmatched socks will go away and I will never have to address it again.

I think we need to address the sock drawer.

Me, as an average person in this country, tend to assume that after we have a conflict, a battle, even a war, we wipe our hands clean and walk away.

We fixed it. It is better. We do not need to address it again.

But you know what we are?

Humans.

We are more chaotic than socks.

And for as much as we want to be good; pride, power and fear are compelling factors to be less good. And when we continue to look away, ignore and excuse what is less good, the needle moves further from what is good.

I don’t think we are very good right now. I think we can be better.

Today reminds me that we consistently have to address and evaluate issues within our society. We can never assume that because great people fought decades ago, we can be impervious to matters of human rights, civil rights and our sacred, fragile democracy.

In light of the volatility we face and have faced in the last couple weeks, I was delighted today. I was thrilled to listen to scholars talk about this day and how we move forward.

I am always humbled to listen to the lives of giants. Thank you Martin Luther King Jr for your bravery and fortitude and reminding us we all have a dream.

I still have to address the chaos in my sock drawer.

I did not post yesterday. I was celebrating the day of my birth. 50 years on this amazing earth. 50 years of being a human during this time.

I was a delightful day. I received so many sweet notes from dear friends. Inhaled beautiful flower arrangements, drank too much champagne and dove into a gorgeous lobster with ravenous glee.

I love my birthday. I really do. I woke up and Hubs glanced over at me, “Happy Birthday.” He said.

“Happy Birthday to you,” I returned.

“It’s not my birthday.”

“I know, but I feel like I should say something in return.”

“No, today is all about you,” he said.

“I KNOW. It is isnt it?” And I giggled like a child.

It is miraculous that we are all here in the forms that we are. Not only did every strand of DNA have to align perfectly, which is miraculous by itself. But that my mom at 19 and my dad at 20 decided what the heck, sure lets start a family.

I know it was a little more complicated than that. But now at 50, I am incredibly grateful for my parents….all four of them who decided along the way to come join the ride.

So many twists of fate to bring us here, who we are today. What a precious day.

I saw my Grandma and Grandpa yesterday. Who at 50 has Grandparents they can visit? Granny talked a bit about her life in Southern Illinois- 9 people, no indoor plumbing and a two seat outhouse. Her father was an electrician but they did not have electricity until Granny was a teenager. 90 years on this earth provides a lot of content- so many stories about just one life.

I then delighted….just a tad……in indoor plumbing and light switches.

Happy Day 14 Sweet Friends. Revel in the miracle you are.

Tomorrow is my birthday.

I turn 50.

50 years on this earth. 50 years on this beautiful, volatile, amazing earth. One thought that has resonated.

How lucky are we to be alive?

How lucky are we to be alive?

This was me at my 40th birthday party.

This photo was taken 5 months after we lost Samantha. And my 40th birthday.

My god…I thought. I have lost everything. What will I be now.

A friend of mine does a post about this picture, he says “And Heather opened her mouth and swallowed her friends whole.”

The irony…..is that I really wanted to swallow you whole. My poor heart felt so felt sad and empty, perhaps if I swallowed you all, I could be full.

I tried to swallow you all but your heads are really big and my jaw doesn’t do that funky dislodging thing that snakes do.

Perhaps its for the better.

Instead you filled my heart. Reminded me I was loved. Nursed me through my 40’s.

And so here we are.

50 brings a light and love that I see shinning through windows, reflected in the trees, returned in a hug or fist bump.

I promise I will no longer devour you.

Hooray for 50.

You bring me Delight

I did not post a delight tonight.

I fell asleep on the couch.

It was delightful.