Good Things

by - 9:35 AM

I love how an unremarkable weekend can turn remarkable just because of a few small good things.

Small good things like hearing my favorite tune on Saturday morning while running a few errands, giving me a valid reason to roll the windows down and turn up the sound, 9AM.

She dreamed of para-para-paradise.

Small good things like a late night trip for half-off appetizers at my favorite Mexican place.
With my favorite guy. And my favorite drink.
And the kind of deep-fried yum-yum-delish chips that are my diet's kryptonite.

One of my favorite small good things only happens in the early spring and late fall when the air is just cool enough to have a lingering chill. I like to drive with my car windows down and the heat on full blast. It's like sweet and salty. Just a solidly good combination of two things that don't seem to mix, but do so well.

Then there's the big good thing that happened this weekend. We shared in the union of two people who promised to love each other forever. My camera flaked out on me, which was actually okay because Ryan was with me and it served as a trigger for him to suggest that maybe it's time to invest in a new one.

Where the flaked out camera leaves us is this:
One picture. And it features Ryan in his favorite picture pose.
We've discussed that thing, you know, about how he seriously doesn't understand the you-freakin-smile-when-the-camera-freakin-flashes-ya-dig?

So, he doesn't smile, but I smile big enough for the both of us.
'Cause that's what sitting next to that man does to me. Get's me high on love and life.
Goofy grins ensue.

I look crazy. He looks like....well, Ryan. That's normal, for us, I guess.

And then it was Sunday. Deliciously lazy and luxurious.
A morning that required two pots of coffee. The best kind of small good thing.

It was nice. The sun was out and it was still cool in the morning. My dogs practically  begged to be let outside. And I couldn't resist. The summer has been so hot, it's been torture to leave them out in the heat for more than ten minutes and they're bored of our livingroom. One sad-eyed dog lick and I was up and they were out.

Now, good fortune has given me the type of old windows in my house that roll out and I happen to have on in my office room that looks out on the backyard. When it's not too hot, I like to open the window, call out to my dogs and pretend that I'm a princess, waving to my loyal subjects.

Or throw treats at the dogs. Which is really what they prefer.

Now look at this handsome devil. He doesn't beg like his crazy brother.

Actually, let me start over. His crazy brother doesn't just beg. He jumps ten feet into the air and snatches the damn treat from my hands.

It looks like his feet are on the ground. Let me just say, that's one heck of an illusion because brother is in the air Michael Jordan style.

Ryan's niece, Aliya, taught me how to do this little number. I'm totally in love.

I may have referred to it as the bee-knees, snappy and/or cried out in thrilled victory, "Ryan! Come look at my hair!"

He shrugged. Eh, boys.

And here's Jack. Mid-yawn.

And this is my favorite Sunday activity. Kind of the whipped topping on a sunday-sundae.
Forgive me. I like clever word puns.
Oh, that's not clever? Shucks.

I've read The Help before, but it was immediately after I saw the movie. Everything I imagined in the book was a carbon copy of the movie which is really not my favorite way to read. I prefer to let my imagination do the creating and the second read, nearly a year after the first, was significantly better.

I like my imagination. It runs rampant.

Then there this great thing. Ryan and I are total thrifters. We love it. It's our "family activity."
I found this spice rack for three bucks at Volunteers of America and went crazy with the paint. It now serves as my own personal nail salon in my bathroom.

This is my first pinterest success story.
I usually tend to end up more on the "nailed it" end of the picture.

And because small good things are the best kind of things, this unremarkable weekend was all-star.
I hung out with my favorite guy, my favorite dogs and I went thrifting.
In the words of Charlie Sheen, the weekend was "winning."


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