I’ve found that sometimes the simplest of things in life are the things make me sublimely happy, if only just for a moment. Is that the definition of simple pleasures? I’m not sure, but it sounds good to me.

Inspired by a blog post on My Favorite Things in which the blog host lets readers post their favorite things each Friday (check them out, they’re so amazing), I pondered what some of my favorite things are. I have a long list of things, all of which are “favorites” but only some of which are simple pleasures. I love reviewing these little things and seeing a glimpse of who I truly am, deep down. And though Ryan might think I’m nearly impossible to please sometimes (* wink), some of these items are truly very small.

I’ve decided to start a similar series of posts on this humble little blog of my simple pleasures and give you a glimpse of what makes me happy, with little to no effort. Maybe I’ll even slip some of Ryan’s simple pleasures in? I encourage you to share yours!

Part of this is also an extension of one of my New Year goals, previously mentioned in a post, to seek out joy in my life, and not get bogged down by the world around me (it’s just so easy to sometimes). It’s the baby steps that count, right? Without further adieu, I give you Part 1…

There are Saturdays, sometimes only once a month or so, where Ryan has to be at work for a few hours. Though part of me is sad to not be able to spend time with him on one of the few days where we are not busy with work or other tasks, the other part of me always tries to make the best of time. Sadly, most of the time that means cleaning and tidying our always-messy-dusty-cluttered country home. Knowing that the task ahead of me is usually great, I start the morning with a little ritual.

I shuffle into the kitchen, still in wrinkled PJs and hair still amuck from the night’s sleep, start the electric kettle and gather up my “supplies”. Good coffee grounds, my favorite mug, a little bit of cream and sugar… and my French press.

I feel a bit like a chemist as I pour in the grounds, then the boiling water, stirring together furiously as the timer counts down precisely four minutes. As everything steeps, I pop a piece of bread into the toaster and smile at the aroma starting to fill the kitchen. This Saturday is even more special as I get the chance to savor a piece of lingonberry shortbread which I picked up at the new bakery in town the night before.

When everything is ready to go, I plunge down the press and pour what has got to be the best darned cup of coffee in the world into my mug. I usually scrape a little bit of butter and honey, or peanut butter (depending on my mood) onto my toast… and walk over to my favorite spot.

It’s the chair by the window, with the great light, and the views of the vineyard and that beautiful white horse in her corral…. and on this Saturday… oh, the view! The rain has just cleared away the “muck” in the air and I see the mountains. Tall and mighty and covered in the whitest, purest snow. It’s breathtaking.

I sit. I sip. I see. And it’s the best 20 minutes of my day.

You see, I only make this coffee once or twice a month. And, lets be honest, it’s probably not even the coffee or the stupid French press. It’s that moment. The one where I sit. In perfect peace. And take in the absolute beauty of God’s creation.

Nothing compares.

Because, when the moment is over, there is the cleaning. The phone calls. The emails. The texts. The mail. The bills. The car. The drama. The dishes. The dust. The mice. The dog. And so much more.

But that quiet moment.

That one is mine. And, it’s heaven.


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