Much as I love putting on the flannelette sheets for winter, knowing they'll take the chill off even on the coldest nights, it's equally a small, important pleasure to change over to cotton sheets in spring. The old set of these gave up the ghost after years of faithful service, and so I bought new ones (half price in the winter sales, a rare and happy bargain!). They don't have the highest thread count - their pleasure is not thin silkiness, but the firmness of good hotel sheets, the slight and pleasant rasp of cotton. They are longtime favourites.
Aren't our lives an accumulation of such small things? Some are gifts, and some choices. The way you take your coffee, the cushion on your favourite chair, the dancing heads of flowers in your garden, a garden, the endless variety of a cloud-painted sky, the fall of sunlight through leaves?
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A kiss from a loved one, a cold wet nose, a roaring fire. I found some very interesting doll house stuff today at an antique store. I am going to do a post about it tomorrow. Happy Spring. We are having Fall, my favorite time of the year.
Yes, yes! I love that last paragraph. I do honestly think that the secret of contentment is the ability to take pleasure in such small details: a leaf shape, a pretty jug, the sound of rain (at least here in Scotland it helps to take enjoy that last one!)
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