- friends who help you move boxes.
- finishing two books in one afternoon.
- the magic that is garlic and butter.
- my very comfy bed.
- finding cute and practical shoes for much less than I had planned to spend.
Category: grace in small things
grace in small things. 160 of 365.
- the buddha statue with upraised arms holding open a window.
- the geese that were slowly encircling the people sleeping in the park.
- the man wearing bunny ears while eating Indian food.
- all of the very fit men wearing only their underwear in public.
- living in a city where people don’t bat an eye at the woman walking around topless and painted silver.
grace in small things. 159 of 365.
- people building their floats for the pride parade.
- naps with cats.
- writing for the first time in ages.
- not having to pay for water, especially when it’s hot and one needs to take three cold showers a day.
- iced chai.
grace in small things. 158 of 365.
- the man wearing hip waders who may or may not have been authorized to be walking around in the rich people’s pond.
- the strange positions kids sleep in.
- making loud stompy noises in my echoing stairwell.
- hot cops and their firemen friends.
- my new glasses.
grace in small things. 157 of 365.
- the mother who had trained her son to spray her bare legs with a water bottle while out in the hot sun.
- the funny shadows my pigtails made on the concrete as I walked.
- surviving the newfangled bike lane/pedestrian madness on the bridge.
- the man getting a hand job from his boyfriend while driving home because that’s what happens when you live in Vancouver and it’s Pride week.
- being handed the keys to my new air conditioned office.
grace in small things. 156 of 365.
- unintentionally witty friends.
- successfully drugging the cat.
- how perfectly a ziploc bag full of frozen peas nestles around a sprained toe.
- cold showers.
- being able to lay around naked when it’s hot because I don’t have roommates.
grace in small things. 155 of 365.
- lessons in humility and being forced to wear disposable sunglasses in public.
- miming entire sections of stories.
- friends who gently caress my plant.
- putting things in boxes and liking it.
- things that sound dirty but aren’t.
grace in small things. 154 of 365.
- the satisfying whooshing sound when someone uses a machete to cut corn.
- cats who obsessively lick the drawer where the catnip is stored.
- 27 year olds who revert back to their twelve year old self, circa 1989, complete with bright pink toe nail polish and a head band.
- little birds splashing around in puddles.
- the young woman who went running after a piece of paper that escaped from the pile of stuff I was carrying down the street.
grace in small things. 153 of 365.
- men in kilts.
- the tall floor lamp sticking out of the sunroof of a small car.
- the dog chewing on a very large log instead of the brightly coloured and expensive toy his owner wanted him to play with.
- grown men dancing in the aisles of the grocery store.
- humid nights that make me think of thailand.
grace in small things. 152 of 365.
- the very rare event of thunder and lightening in the city.
- the sounds of cheering when lightening lights up the sky, which sounds just like the cheering when the fireworks go off.
- thrift store shopping with the woman who taught me how to thrift store shop.
- a lovely dinner enjoyed on the balcony.
- the combined Mcgyvering talents of my mother and I.
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