Friday

We all know who the "happy people" in our lives are. The one who invariably make us content, who force smiles onto our faces when we're in their presence. Ocean readers certainly can guess mine: kids, grandkids, Ed. My close to the heart friends. Easy peasy. But how about happy places? Spots where you can count on finding peace, tranquility, warmth, contentment. Do you have one or two? Or more? 

I was thinking about these places today: I return to them often because they provide comfort and joy routinely. I'd have to be pretty down in the dumps not to think to myself -- it feels so good to be here!

Happy places. At the farmhouse, there are a handful: in the summer -- the porch. At all other times -- the kitchen table. In the evenings -- the couch. (I know! It takes so little!) Elsewhere? Our local park, and especially along the standard loop we do -- through the prairie and up the hill. Farther afield -- my hotel room at Le Baume in Paris. A table at lunchtime at Cafe Varenne. I suppose any well tended garden, but now I'm stretching to the probable, rather than the surefire hits.

There is magic in those happy places. They cause you to push aside the fretting, the yowling thoughts, the dreadful images from, say, a newscast earlier on. They always remind me -- yes, but there's also this to life...

Yesterday, Anne Lamott wrote another piece in the Washington Post about aging. (She is nearly exactly my age.) She wrote about routinely taking walks along a creek with a friend whom she has known since childhood. One line stuck in my head, one she quoted from another source -- when you're really pounded from all sides and you wonder -- what's the point? Where's the joy? This person thought for a while and answered -- well, there's always the morning.

Indeed! There's the morning where you wake up to a new day. And there's the porch and the bench in our courtyard (don't let me forget the bench!). And there's our local park, to which we return again and again, Ed and I, and each time we finish our loop I say, so very sincerely -- that was just beautiful!

(today's walk)

It's a sunny day. Cool, but who cares! That's spring out there!

The hens are happy once again. The crocuses are exploding with their brilliance. 

 

 

 

 

 

(the daffodils? almost!)

 

 

Ed and I start our morning with breakfast, still in the kitchen. It will be another month before we dare venture out on the porch.

And we go out for our walk. In the park. Content.

 

In the afternoon, the kids are here. 

As we start in on the next volume of the Greenhouse ghostly-mystery series (I wanted to postpone, but she begged!), Snowdrop throws a glance at my side table, where I keep my KenKen math book. Gaga! I just did those puzzles in school today! Aren't they fun? (For those who did not read this on Ocean -- KenKen logic puzzles appear daily in the NYTimes and they come highly recommended for those who don't want to slip into math nothingness as they get older!)

I am so glad that I am keeping up with my math abilities.

So ends the week. Actually, extremely well for me. Remember the bike ride Ed and I took on Monday to Paoli? Remember my words of wisdom to you on Tuesday? (Never do medical testing the day after you've done an even moderately strenuous activity...) Well now. I had a week of alarm bells going off as those high in the medical profession studied my results. Finally, the most wise and sensible of them all (my own doc) said -- repeat the test when her muscles have recovered after the ride. I did. Alarm bells were quickly silenced.

And now for my happy space. The couch. With Ed's toes digging into me, because he prefers a reclining position. 

With love.