Thinking on Thursday: It's the Little Things

Currently, I'm reading The Happiness Project for my book group. It's making me think a lot--not that this is a hugely challenging book, but it does bring up some relevant points--and consider the things in my life that make me happy or unhappy. I'm not ready to say just yet if I am willing to commit to a Happiness Project (okay, who am I kidding? I am a sucker for this stuff), but I am certainly willing to celebrate the little things that bring joy into my life.

So. Something that makes me happy? Leftovers--really really yummy leftovers--for lunch at work.

It's crazy and more than a little stressful most mornings at my job. The days that I have a good lunch of leftovers waiting in the staff room fridge are days when there's just a little bit of extra sparkle in the air. I eagerly anticipate lunch; it's a pleasurable time, in which I get to savor some yummy goodness and also be reminded of the original dinner, which is usually an event enjoyed with Himself.

Last night we had friends over and Himself fixed a delicious pesto pasta with shrimp. There was just enough left of it for me to take to work today, and anticipate, and finally snarf down at lunch, and enjoy every little morsel of it. That makes me happy!

















It also...almost...makes me want to cook all the time so I always have yummy leftovers for lunch!

Which leads to the ultimate thought on Thursday: is the pleasure in savoring something so slight and minimal decreased upon repetition of it?

Random Thoughts on Thursday: What's in A Name?

There are many many blessings in my life, of this I am aware. But few are as fabulous, as envied, as rare as that coveted real estate phenomenon known as...

The Bonus Room.

Here at Eden (which is what I have decided to call this home), we actually have a Bonus Room. It opens up into the living area (thus making it delightfully central), and it separates the guest wing from the master bedroom. It's a den, really--instead of a closet, there's a little nook with shelves in it. It's not HUGE by any stretch, but it's certainly large enough to accommodate a variety of objects.

At first, we called it the office. Or, more specifically, "The room we never go iIN to." And sometimes "The Clutter Room." Then I got into scrapbooking, and all of my recently-acquired supplies were piled into the room, with no organization. I began to call it the Scrap Room.

Himself began to call it the Crap Room.

In short order, however, I fell down the rabbit hole of crafts that scrapbooking had opened up. More supplies began to trickle into the condo. I began to daydream about painting terra cotta, making beautiful necklaces, generating mixed-media collages, conducting research into my novel, planning meals for the week ahead, assembling a dollhouse...And then, "(s)craproom" was no longer really the right word for it.

After taking the whole room through a major cleaning (not a purge; I'm not that enlightened), the room has been broken down into areas: the desk and shelves where the bills are paid and the homemaking/crafting books and supplies are stored; the "work area" where projects, laptop, and more supplies are stored; the "library" consisting of two 6 foot bookshelves crammed with more books, the kitty's litter box, and then, tucked away in a corner, my "spirituality area." There's a lot going on in this room!

At present, I try to refer to it as "The Craft Room." But every now and then, I feel compelled to call it "the studio." Something--perhaps that nasty Fear Voice that still screams loud and true after all these years, or else that still, small voice of cold, literal logic--tells me that that's pretentious and misleading. After all, studios are for artists, and no artist am I. Sure, I dream big, but at present, all I have are two scrapbook page spreads, one 70% finished fanfic epic, and one heck of a lot of big dreams. This does not an artist make, nor does it make a "studio."

Or does it?