Today, I finally caved and threw away my iron... You see, somehow I got these weird burn streaks on the base of my iron that rubbed off onto the front collar of one of my white uniform shirts - ruining it for future wear :(. So, tonight, I opened up the box holding a brand new iron (
Sidebar 1: the iron that Josh bought prior to coming to Training College though yet to be used until tonight). And while I blasted out my favourite tunes on my iPod and danced around in one spot, I ironed all of my uniform shirts. One after the other, I watched the shirts go from wrinkled and slightly disheveled to a lovely, smooth pressed shirt. Call me crazy, but there was some strange satisfaction in this monotonous act.
A simple pleasure.
And this got me to thinking, I have enjoyed a number of simple pleasures in the last week or 10 days:
-
a half price, grande, extra hot, soy Tazo Chai Tea Latte from Starbucks (ok, perhaps not quite so simple)...
- a phone call with an old friend
- french toast made with Newfoundland homemade white bread and pure maple syrup (I just drooled on my keyboard a little)
- a skype chat with my Dad
- a package from Mum with a short note, new black socks and Granny underpants (honestly love that you keep me in full supply Mum)!
- early morning devotions with a cup of tea and ... absolute quiet...
- the feeling of mastering a simple song on the piano (even if it still is only with one hand)
- a late afternoon nap under my colourful rag quilt
- an 'I love you' from Josh for no particular reason
- you get where I am going with this I think...
The simple pleasures.
When my family lived in North Wales, I was 11 or 12 years old and I got my first job... a paper route. This paper route offered borderline slave wages. I made just over 2 pounds ($4CDN) to deliver 218 newspapers every week. Though I would receive a *bonus* if flyers came in, my brothers would always charge me if I got their help, so no matter what, I seemed to end up with approx. $4 spending money. Let me tell you, it was hard-earned money. Mostly because the UK's reputation for constantly raining is true,... and I would often come home almost floating and at least 15lbs heavier from my clothes being completely water-logged.
BUT - and this is a *BIG* butt (ha ha - yes, go ahead and make the bum jokes now if you must). Sorry, sidebar: BUT - the thing was, I was sooo proud of my meager earnings, and I would somehow manage to stretch them to have them go such a long way. I would happily skip a mile down the road to the Spar (the local small market/corner store) and buy myself a 33p ($0.66) pop - it was called a Supercan. And honestly, you would've thought I had come into big money the way I was so happy with my purchase. Maybe I would get a little snack if the money was burning a hole in my jean pocket, but honestly, to me, nothing could've brought more of a skip into my step than being able to pick up a few treats for my family and for me to enjoy my Supercan of pop on the long journey uphill back to the house. Dad still brings up the 'Supercan' on occasion.
A simple pleasure.
We live in a world that seems so concerned with "bigger is always better". New York City was built on a principle of *trumping* whatever had come before. But here is what I am pondering tonight after baking some basic biscuits and finishing my ironing. Life can be *so* good when we allow ourselves to enjoy the simple pleasures: to totally - and without guilt or shame - admit that we enjoy the simple, the inexpensive, the uncomplicated, the un-busy. To say that "life is *so* good." I believe this is what God intended for our lives - not always perhaps, but that we take time to enjoy those simple things...
Whatever that
'Simple Pleasure' is for you, whether crawling under the covers early one night to read your favourite book, to put on a movie classic, to take your children to the park, to go for a walk on a cool evening... Whatever that '
Simple Pleasure' is, I encourage you to make the time, to let the feeling of joy and absolute peace & contentment overwhelm you, to quiet your heart enough to drown out all of the sounds of chaos around you. Even if it is something as silly as ironing or going to buy and drink a Supercan of pop...
What are your simple pleasures today?
Well, the inevitable has happened... I officially have two grey hairs - not faded out from colouring, not sun-kissed, but actual grey hair! And they are strategically placed that a number of people have found the need to tell me that I do. My response? A polite, "yes, I am aware."
(1) I dye my hair. I assumed in recent years that I was doing it in anticipation of grey hair. It turns out it is nothing to do with that and more because of a snooty girl from church camp a decade & a half ago who told me my hair was mousy brown... I've never forgotten that (so, sidebar: remember kids - words can hurt!); but, over time, I realize that Ms. Beautiful Chestnut Brown Hair had her own insecurities - and the 'mousy brown' comment was really compensating for that.
