Everybody has likes and dislikes. It’s how we’re made. If we all liked the same things, they would always be sold out. Really. Shopping on Amazon would be a much different experience. And we’d all be married to the same guy, which could get downright awkward.
And, so, since this is my blog and I make the rules, I thought it would be fun to list stuff I like. And, who knows, maybe you’ll learn something about me you didn’t know. Or perhaps you’ll be bored silly. Either way, here we go!
I happen to love stripes. Especially when I’ve painted them, lovely and wide, vertical or horizontal, on a wall (or six) in my house.
Also, I’m a big fan of blue skies with lots of sunshine, while I’m not so fond of snow. (Except when it keeps everyone home for the day.)
Documentaries (about nature, history, and other fun stuff like conspiracy theories, unsolved crimes, tornadoes and Bigfoot) easily make it to my list.
I have a cool chair in my living room that I call The Gold Chair (the chair, not the living room). I like it because it’s unique, and because it came from my parents and I grew up with it. My husband has a distinctly different opinion of The Gold Chair. It seems to be one of those things that you either love or you hate. Kinda like cilantro. (Which I hate.)
I like having a mirror in a room, not because I want to keep a check on how I look when I walk in — ’cause, really, that’s a crapshoot, quite honestly — but because it throws around whatever light is available and makes it all a bit cheerier. I like cheery. And cheerier.
I love watching flocks of swarming birds. In Lancaster, during the colder seasons, we have a massive number of relatively big, black birds (starlings, perhaps?) that hang out in trees in the vicinity of our one and only mall. When I drive along that stretch of Route 30 I have to work to keep my eyes on the road, and not on the gorgeous, often swarming, Mall Birds. (I’ve decided that’s what I’m going to call them, the Mall Birds.)
I happen to like it when my husband, or my kids, holds my hand. The first time Jeff held my hand we were at the Philadelphia Zoo, it was February and it was fuh-REE-zing outside. That was 17 years ago and I remember it clearly. My girls will sometimes still reach for my hand when we’re walking somewhere, even though they’re 11 and 12 and no longer need me to keep them out of the way of oncoming traffic. It’s just nice.
Pretty handwriting makes me happy, be it mine or someone else’s. I don’t always achieve that ranking, but when it happens, it makes me happy.
And the final item on this list of likes is Alone Time. Just me, a cup of coffee, and a British mystery or a documentary. Or me, some coffee, my laptop, a blog post, and I’m a relaxed woman, likely gearing up to be off to tackle the next thing on my list, but while it lasts, it’s lovely.