In no perfect order….
Sharp pencils. There is nothing like a sharp pencil. I feel like I could open a book of white paper and write forever, the sharp tip of my instrument creating beautiful words and imagery. What is it they say? A dream and a sharp pencil can take you anywhere. It sounds like a delicious ride on a fluffy cloud.
Packing a grocery bag. Give me boxed foods, canned goods and a paper bag, I can fit the puzzle pieces together. But there are fittings you must know to avoid: you never want to mix items containing chemicals in with foodstuffs; the chemicals may leak and contaminate the food. And bread on top, always. I learned the hard way, as does everyone else.
Canned food. I wish you all had the luxury of looking in my pantry. It is all there in living can color, cans arranged by month and year. Every three months I rotate them all out and restock. I lust for pull-out shelves someday. That would be more delightful to me than walking through Crystal Gayle’s long and luxurious locks barefoot.
Lino Rulli from Sirius Radio’s The Catholic Guy Show. He does wacky things such as speaking with postulants (nuns in training) at convents to ask them what they miss in secular life. It’s fun to hear the girls say they miss simple things like their favorite perfume, singing loudly to their favorite pop song, or spending luxurious time in a bubble bath. I imagine they all hunker down on overstuffed couches on Saturday evening, with buckets of 94% fat free popcorn and Tom Hanks films. The only difference between them and me in my mind are the oversized crucifixes on the wall and maybe some windows made of stained glass.
Mia, the glass angel wind chime. She lives in the tree out front of the funeral home and waves at me in the bright sunshine. Okay, Mia doesn’t really wave at me, but the light glints off of her just right sometimes and my eye catches her love. She watches over the funeral home when I’m not in. No, it’s not weird.
Singing loudly out in nature. Something wells up inside me, starts at my feet and works its way up during the opening of The Sounds of Music. I, too, want to twirl and saunter and be at one with deer and owls as I prance to and fro, singing out the notes in a melodic, merry frizz. Julie Andrews would certainly have nothing on me.
Being a Synesthetic. The special gift of identifying numbers with colors. Can’t you see that 2 is always canary yellow, and that 10 is fire engine red? Not everyone does, so it has a social name: Color Synesthesia. Numbers or letters are perceived as inherently colored, and this makes little old me quite special.
Telling people I have a round bed. I have yet to meet someone who has one, they always answer with, “Really? No way!” Way. Then they always want to know if I have special sheets. I think I would be inclined to ask how a round bed fits against a wall, or if the round bed sleeper falls out of bed easier.
The amazing comfort of my electric blanket. I crank it up to Number Eight, hunker way down low, and slip off to dreamland. It is delicious.
Hearing that my daughter is a mini me. I always wanted a son, but I birthed a baby girl who looks and acts just like me. She has even developed my passion for canned food and sticks her fork directly into the can to enjoy its savory contents.
I love to rhyme. Unabashedly.
Performing the monologue from Princess Leia. Boys of all ages sort of tilt their heads and stare at me with glossy eyes as I begin, “General Kenobi: Years ago, you served my father in the Clone Wars. Now he begs you to help him in his struggle against the Empire.”
Sesame Street. My favorite show of all time. A happy place. I want Elmo as my best friend.
A fresh perspective. Just being able to wake up to the sun shining in the morning. Each day is yet another chance to turn it all around.
Those moments when the universe has my back. It’s glorious!