I miss living in a place with seasons. I suppose it’s because I like novelty. I love experiencing the newness of each season, and honestly, I enjoy the little changes in habit that accompany the seasons. Summer means I get to meet my sandals and tank tops again! Winter means layering cozy, dark colored scarves and shirts and sweaters and things. Spring means drinking light bodied wine, and eating lots of food from the grill. Fall means it’s time to start keeping soups and stews in the house. Living in San Diego again, I haven’t been able to enjoy these changes in season as much, but today I had the little joy of wearing my winter boots because it was finally cool enough.
Anyone who knows me well knows that I hate commuting. Actually, I hate driving in San Diego in general, because it’s just the norm here not to use turn signals, side mirrors, you know, courtesy and caution in general. But yesterday, driving to school, I had the little joy of letting someone squeeze in front of me—after he almost hit my car—but then him giving me the wave! I can forget about all the world’s a-hole drivers for one blissful moment whenever some good soul gives me the wave*!
Even though I am about to receive the lowest grade of my college career in physics, when I think of things like the curvature of spacetime, I have the little joy of a feeling… a feeling that this is what I really want to do: study the magnificence of God’s creation. I don’t expect that we have very much really figured out as humans. I’m not convinced there is even such thing as knowledge, except in the soul. But it is still a pleasure to ponder everything, to try to describe it, to see if you can understand something at least well enough to predict a thing or two about what it will do next. It’s wonderful to think about a benevolent God who created all that is, yet loves us in all our simpleness.
I have the little joy of coming home, knowing there are leftovers in the refrigerator**. It’s so awesome when you’re hungry, on the way home, and man, could you go for some Burger King! But there’s no need for greasy fast food that you’ll regret—not when you know that there’s something healthy and delicious right at home, and all you have to do is nuke it. No one thinks, “I can’t wait to go home and start dicing and chopping and preparing my meal!” That is why I love leftovers, and don’t understand anyone who doesn’t eat them.
That’s it for now. I should go do responsible stuff, right?
*If you don’t know what “the wave” is, you’re part of the problem! The wave is like saying, “Thank you,” and/or “Excuse me.” It’s the polite thing to do sometimes!
**One of my best friends, God knows why, cannot stand the word “fridge.” Since she and I were once roommates, and often the subject of the “fridge” would come up, since we shared one, I got into the habit of not using that word. Who am I, the queen of England, saying fancy words like “refrigerator?” Nope, not fancy. Just a habit leftover from appeasing my friend’s little neurosis. 🙂
Oh, wait! I also have the little joy of Christmas music! Yessss!