LLP - Dodging raindrops

It's raining here - not a great big Hannah -esque downpour, but a stead precip since about three this afternoon. I invariably forget my brolly and rarely have the forethought for a raincoat, so I wind up always running from building to car. I'm usually grinning from ear to ear (occasionally giggling if I'm with anyone of an equally sophomoric bent) by the time I reach my destination. I always think of my mother's command in my childhood to run between the drops. I still haven't figured out how to achieve that - I bet Usain Bolt can do it, though.

LLP - Cool Mornings

I live in Maryland. As you may remember from elementary geography classes, Maryland is located just west of the Chesapeake Bay, gave up a bit of it's marshland for the creation of Washington, D.C. and is possibly one of the most schizophrenic states in the union when it comes to weather. In the winter of 2009 - 2010 we had roughly six feet of snow that did not finally clear off until April and in July and August 2010 we had nearly a dozen days with temps over 100 degrees, many more when you count the heat index.

So this morning's llp for me is stepping out into the relatively cool of a 70 degree morning. After too many nights going to bed with temps in the 80's and waking up with temps the same and so much humidity that it feels like walking out of the doorway into a vat of warm custard, I'm going to appreciate having the window open this morning!

Life's Little Pleasures

Ever since her book was first released, the story of Elizabeth Gilbert of Eat, Pray, Love fame has gotten my dander up. I can't help but bristle at the self-indulgence of someone who has to run away like a petulant child to truly experience life. Especially since she comes home to all her old problems - the same men, the same life - and still can't find life's little pleasures. The recent release of the film inspired by her story has gotten my ire up all over again and left me steaming quietly at the social inadequacies of our culture that we've managed to breed entire generations that can't seem to find a simple moment of brightness in a crowded day.

Then, today I read this interview with the immensely talented Terry Pratchett. I have admired the man since I read my first copy of The Colour of Magic (I'm on edition three, they tend to wear out over time!). My quiet moments have been more enjoyable and my conversations more interesting for the benefit of all that he has taken the time to write for the world. In the interview linked above he talks about facing his own failing faculties - a daunting prospect for someone whose life's work and the source of his greatest recognition has been the creative products of his brain. In the midst of this new lifestyle of wondering what new limitations each day may bring, he can stil find simple joys. He mentions seeing a bit of rusted barbed wire and a tangled vine that had grown up over and around it in the midst of a hedge and the simple, superb beauty of the browns and reds woven together.

It pleased me to hear (or read) him sharing such a mundane moment - seeing a vine in a bit of man-made debris - with such delight. If you're still reading, you've finally gotten to the nub - my firm belief that simple joys can be found nearly anywhere, in every day, if we could only be bothered to look. Check back periodically and you'll be able to share in my little pleasures, whereever they may occur. Well, not technically where ever. I have not a web-enabled mobile phone, so I'll be enjoying my moments as they happen and sharing them well after the fact.

Today's little pleasure: counting rail cars. When was the last time you did that, I ask? Do you stop for a train and find your blood pressure going up because you're cross about the delay? Or do you look at it with a child's eyes, counting the cars, marvelling at the unusual ones (Burlington Zephyr, anyone?) and having a guess what might be in them? That's my LLP for the day - counting train cars and marveling at the greater network of opportunity and freedom the rails represent.