Random things have been making me happy lately:

• Taking an impossible task at work and turning it into a workable design (now, to implement!)
• A doe grazing on the shoulder near the treeline on the drive through Rock Creek Park on the way home Friday night.
• Good hummus.
• Realizing that I have core strength and that maybe, just maybe, I can access the parts of myself I thought were closed off to me for good.
• And, yes, mounds of blueberries (Jim is right: they work in ice cream too)

• For the first time in a long time I’ve had that nagging feeling that I’d rather be at home writing than at work. As uncomfortable as it is, this is a good thing.
• Being “not fired” even though I screwed up at work.
• White, puffy clouds high in a bright blue sky.
• Root beer with no added caffeine.

These are the things that are making me happy today.

• Naps in the ungodly heat because it was just so right
• Being comfortable with being “an adult” who goes to “kids’ movies” with no kids in tow.
• Seeing a story’s structure and still being able to enjoy the story.
• Not being able to remember the last time I had an anxiety attack.

Flexibility makes me happy. And I don’t mean the kind that leads you to do an excellent Downward Facing Dog either. I mean the kind that lets me do chores during the week so I can spend my weekend on things like:

• Going to a movie, no matter how bad or poorly adapted from a beloved comic
• Visiting the Smithsonian Folklife festival because this year the program not-sucked more than it sucked
• Flying a kite on the mall
• Reading the entire Sunday paper without feeling rushed
• Sleeping in (both days!)

I mean the kind that lets me work at home today in my bright, sunny room with all the windows open and the sounds of birds and a nice breeze instead of in my cold, artificially lit hole in the ground at the office.

Hoorah for flexibility!

• Sunrise over the ocean.
• Sand between my toes.
• Salty water on my face.
• Making the “Need more custard” light go off (chocolate/vanilla swirl with a dip and sprinkles anyone?)
• Having the locals recognize that you aren’t a touron and greet you like they would a resident.

Now, if I can just figure out how to move to the beach…

The space around the subway station in my neighborhood has been virtually abandoned. The transit authority does the barest minimum to maintain what they consider to be their property (this does not include picking up trash) and the city does absolutely nothing to maintain the property on their side of “the line.”

As a consequence, the area near the overpass becomes a dumping ground for those too lazy and stupid to carry their refuse another 10 feet to the bin. Except for a few weeks in the middle of June when the corn flowers take over.

Rangy, thick stalks spend most of May shooting up, up up from fist-sized clumps of scraggly leaves. Then, suddenly, one day in June they bloom. Petals in Fibonacci series two and three to a stalk from corner to corner defying the trash throwers and the car exhaust.

In a few weeks they’ll be gone but for now they make traveling to and from almost pleasant.

The great thing about having a sort of rag-tag garden is that things bloom unexpectedly and take me by surprise.
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