Several jars of homemade lentil stew all put away in the fridge.
Freshly washed hair in a loosely confined tousle at my neck.
A brisk sunny evening walk down the street.
Shalet's blog Peculiar Momma and her "for the love of color" posts.
Writing down all expenditures in approximately neat categories in the budget book.
Smells like Spring, somehow. Mud, mud, glorious mud!
Incremental kitchen rearranging.
My in-laws telling DH to encourage me to "keep taking pictures." Considering the source, that's as huge an acknowledgement as you could imagine. (heh. As if he could stop me.)
Anticipation of listening to a new music CD.
Victorian murder mysteries featuring Oscar Wilde,"playwright, poet, wit, raconteur, detective...," and choc full of plot, personality, and real/fake bon mots, not to mention the flamboyantly designed covers.
Writer-gardener Frank Hyman's latest essay, Happiness is a Glass of Water, and this quote: "...a good portion of one's daily happiness can be derived from the small domestic pleasures of life."
A little girl who has learned to put herself back to sleep.