And, these things make me happy

A list.

Of some of the things that delight me.

I'm gone. I'm not here this Labor Day weekend, thanks to the national conference of the National Organization of Women Legislators. It's really good to get your head, and your body, out of the day to day and into another realm. Meeting women from across the country, talking about issues that affect us all. I'll let you know how it goes.

Curt. My husband. Of 31 years. Who allows me to "do my own thing," as we used to say in the 60s. Allows me is not the right word, you of the liberated lady world. So let's just say he understands what I do and why I do it. And, he's here and I'm there.

My kids. Back from their sojourn among the bagpipes. Did I tell you my son in law's family migrated here from Northern Ireland? He's a bagpiper, which is the only bad thing I can say about him. Unless you want to get into the story of their bald, pink dog. He, and my daughter, are both architects. As is my son. The best looking guy in Cambridge. And maybe the most talented.

The cats. They humor me. They comfort me. They're beautiful. And they don't ask much. Cobi, Cali, Cash and Carry. A little humor there.

The Triumph. I'm the original owner. 1976 TR6. Just 21 years old, and less than 50,000 miles. Just once, just one summer, I'll take it to Walt for it's annual checkup and it will cost less than $352.

Lady Friends. Maggie, Mary, Donna, Suzy, Cathy...I must have some friends under 50. Am I that old? I'm not going to list any more. I'd leave too many out. And I'm not going to list the Men Friends.

My accountant. Down to earth. My attorney. Down to earth. My bankers. Local. And down to earth. My doctors. By 60 I'll have all new body parts. My mortician. I don't need him yet, but he knows who he is.

I'm not including my dentist. If I have one deathly fear, it's dentists. I look at the poor guy and tears start to roll. I don't like bats or basements either.

This list is getting too long. Stanley Park. The Athenaeum. Cops and firefighters, once you get to know them. And the Troopers. It's getting too serious.

Wildflowers and lilies. Trees and snow. Sunsets and rises. Cathedrals and organs. Yellow.

Politicians who get things done. Rather than talk.

Baseball games. Solving problems. Doing crosswords. Reading books.

Newspapers. The Globe, the Herald, the Union News, the Westfield Evening News, USA Today. Any paper. Old, used papers that people send to stuff inside packing crates. Magazines.

Candles. Fireplaces. Fall leaves. Joop.

Sitting on the deck. And doing nothing at all.

Travel. And, I'm not here. See you next weekend.

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