A Return to Happinesses

wisteria

I used to do this happinesses thing, where at the end of a particularly rough day (or sometimes when I just didn’t know what else to write about) I would recognize some of the happinesses in my day. It’s so easy to get mired in the negativity, or even just the routine, and not even notice the good things going on around us. This simple exercise has helped me so many times in the past.

Happiness, by the way, is not a destination. It’s a path. A way of life. An ongoing experience. It just is.

Flowers everywhere are blooming! The campus I work at is filled with flowers at this time of year, and my favourites are all fragrant. There are pink bushes and yellow bushes, each with their own perfumes. Sure wish I knew what they were called. There are several places with enormous fragrant Wisterias – one of which I walk under just about every day.
Speaking of flowers, my birthday roses from my aunt are growing; the frost we got just a day or so after I put them in the ground didn’t harm them one bit. One even has a tiny little bud on it. I need to find out what to do … allow the plant to flower now, or pinch it off and insist that it dedicate energy to growing leaves and branches first.
The scent of ironing. I don’t know why, but I enjoy that scent. So long as I’m not the one doing the ironing. I think Leif irons more often than I do.
 A productive day at work. A bonus – my boss could’ve easily taken credit for something I found (and he missed) that saved our centre a bit of money. But he didn’t. He very publicly insisted that credit went to me.
At dinner tonight I just about lost patience with Cameron. We were at his favourite restaurant, and he was flopping all over the bench seating of the booth, shoving food in his mouth, smearing sauce over his face. Finally, I asked him if he knew what I meant by manners when I reminded him, again and again, to mind his manners. He very sweetly and calmly explained that he knew, but didn’t know how to explain them. When I growled insisted, he said, “Well, it’s like respect. Only it’s respect with food. At the table.” I asked him if he though the way he was behaving was respectful… and got nearly perfect table manners from him for the remainder of the meal.
Kate’s happiness and sweetness when I picked the kids up. She was ready to go, cooperative and friendly, and ‘extraction’ from after-school care was without any fuss at all.
Leif’s smiles and kisses. And his tolerance of me being affectionate and perhaps a little clingy. He’s off to play hockey for several days, and I’ll miss him … I want as many kisses as I can get before he goes.

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