It’s the little things.

Like having a good nose, not a huge one or crooked one, that makes me like myself today.

Or that i have someone to cuddle with.
Or that my dog protects me, gives me something to chase and scream at, and demonstrates how to smile with her eyes in such a way Tyra would be proud.
Or that music and books and movies are an immediate escape from reality.
Or that Facebook is both entertaining, and juicy.
Or the fuzz on a peach that makes it better than a nectarine.
And also that I’ve been armed with the ability to create words, photographs, and I can do both without muttering a word.
Or the way my carpet smells after I vacuum.
And that somebody actually discovered the beauty of baking soda.
And that I feel more powerful in sunglasses.

It’s the little things like the way my kids look when they’re sleeping.
Or the way dog farts can break awkward silence.
Or the way cats talk with their tails.

It’s the way chocolate tastes when it’s cold.

It’s the way somebody can make you feel inside, just by noticing you.
The way one compliment can make your whole day.
The way I look in pink even though I despise it.
It’s word combo’s like “hunky-dory” that are PERFECT together.
It’s drinking whiskey and smoking cigars with the boys.

It’s not the flowers that heal, it’s the smell of flowers that heal.
It’s the way bright colors look against dark.
It’s dirt on your clothes, and the smell of sweat that makes you feel successful.

Or the way dirt roads will never feel claustrophobic.
Or the way a good friend feels, just by being in the room.
And the way mascara immediately makes me feel prettier and less tired.
And the good toothpaste, not the peroxide kind.

It’s being afraid of the dark sometimes, even though I’m 27, proving I can feel.
It’s having an imagination with a taste for horror, and also romance, but not at the same time.
It’s the way lemonade tastes in the summer, and schnapps-chocolate in the winter.
Or the noise and good hotdogs at a live sporting event.

It’s the way you never outgrow daddy-hugs.
And your mom never stops being the best cook you know.
And the way your sibling never stops making you wish you could punch them in their hamburger from across the table.

It’s the way pretty paper makes my letters loopy.
It’s the confidence felt when driving something bigger.
And the way I feel after I yell until I feel better, or cry until I don’t.
It’s clean sheets, crunchy new pillows, and fluffy blankets.

It’s the way life produces passions and lessons every single day.
It’s the way sausage tastes better than hamburger in spaghetti.
Or the way my kitchen counters look after I make them smell like bleach.
Or the way laughing is contagious.

I love the way mud makes my skin soft, AND is a sunscreen.
I love that goodbyes are ironically, rarely good.
Or the way matching socks make my feet happy.
Or the way my ass is insta-awesome in heels.

And the way living on a farm brings constant blog’spiration.
Or the way he looks at me.
Or the way family sounds when we’re at home.

Am I the only one sitting here thinking I have an awful lot to be thankful for, and less to whine about all of a sudden? What’d I miss?



4 thoughts on “It’s the little things.

  1. You didn’t miss a thing! You do have a lot to be thankful for…and you’ve accomplished every bit of it on your own. You’ve overcome many obstacles, with AND without the closest support system in your life.

    Enjoy the ride! Love the pic too!

  2. Happy face, smile that is huge and a happy tear in my eyes.
    Making me relize life is to be thankful for and not to ment to be sad all the time.

  3. I LOVE dirt roads! LOVE THEM! I could never put a word to why and you just did it pefectly for me! I am appreciating all of these things! I love how we have such different things on our little things lists (because your brain works way better than mine) and I am jealous of the things you thought of!


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