I grab a scrap of paper out of the ash-woven basket at the end of the counter... Across the backside, on a whim, a dare, I scratch it down: Gift List. I begin the list. Not of gifts I want but of gifts I already have.
1. Morning shadows across the floors
2. Jam piled high on the toast
3. Cry of blue jay from high in the spruce
-1000 Gifts, Anne Voaskamp
My fall reading list is progressing slowly but I read this this morning and thought of you! I love this post you wrote a while back about lists and may just give give this a try. Here's what you said:
"I looked through and saw lists of things I wanted to look up when I had internet and realized it was a very brilliant picture of what music/movies/ books I loved. The things I needed to change about me. The resulting resolves. The lists of Jesse: things he loves, foods he loves, foods he hates, pet peeves. Present ideas. The lists of clothes were in fact a list of my styles. What little niceties to place in a guest room. The meal planning. Even the grocery lists reflected the seasons, the manias, the comfort foods, the experiments of a newly-wed couple. THESE LISTS WERE MY JOUNAL!!!! it just hit me one day... all these rather charmingly messy scribblings that I jotted at usually during the babies' nap times probably revealed more about me than my piles and piles of journals that I'd carefully decided what to write in."
So now my own list will start. Start small.
1. Driving with my car window down, music blaring, and sun hitting my shoulder. (yep just the one for that fantastic drivers tan)
2. When just the right song starts playing on the radio
3. Epiphanies when things just aren't quite adding up