Experiencing happy...

Last night as I was falling asleep, my husband just lightly snoring next to me, I was suddenly taken by the feeling that I'm not sure I ever really felt before. I had a calm, a peace and a genuine feeling of happiness. It's strange that this was such a strong feeling because, overall, I would describe myself as a happy person. I've often wondered what makes people happy and, for me, it's always been about moments. Those moments in life when everything seems to come together, when I'm with the right people, in the right moment, then I am happy. But this was an even bigger feeling than that.

I would not say that Alex and I are "well off" by definition. I mean, I make a good wage, don't get me wrong. And, right now, because we're waiting for the approval from immigration Alex is going out of his skin a little waiting to be able to work. But we have enough. Our home is small, and cluttered a bit, but it's cozy and it's ours. We have two crazy cats that love us as if we were gods. We both have things within ourselves that we're working on. We're not perfect. But we are us. We can make each other laugh all the time and we can make each other really mad sometimes too. There are things I want. Things I would want to have but those are just things. We have our dreams and our hopes but we don't dwell on them, we plan for them.

And in the dark quiet of the night, with the light snoring, and the purring cats and clutter and the dreams and the hopes and the plans, I was overwhelmed with this intense feeling of happiness. I know how lucky I am. I know how loved I am. And I know how much I love that man, those cats, this life.

I wish this for all of you.

The thing about home...

You could ask a hundred people to tell you what "home" means to them and you would likely get a hundred different answers. For most of us, home is that place where we are most comfortable, where we can be ourselves, where we don't have to worry about what others think or want us to do. Home is our haven. As children, home was likely to be our sanctuary - the place where we learned our best and worst lessons and it didn't matter because everyone there loved you anyway. As we grow up, there is a time when home becomes the place you want to leave and never look back. And then we do that and realize that there really is no place like home.

I remember the first time I went home after I had lived out on my own in Chicago for a few years. I couldn't afford to get my own apartment right way so I ended up living with my mom again. That first night I was laying in there in the same bed I had slept in, in the same room I had called my own, with the same pictures on the wall. It was like I had travelled back in time. It was weird but somehow really great at the same time. I felt trapped but free, nostalgic but liberated, all at the same time. I came to appreciate home in terms of my own definition. Home was a place I will always remember and have some really wonderful recollections of it but I wouldn't want to live there again.

It's hard to say good bye to the physical place you call home. The memory keeper in all of us would rather tie it up in a bow and stop time to keep those memories in tact and whole. But the truth is, memories become sweeter when we let them mingle in the presence of our days not when we hold them so close they start to smother us.

I'm just a little ray of sunshine...

So, Monday... just a day with nothing but bad news from all fronts. Bad news from Sweden...bad news here at home. There must be a little rain cloud hovering over me these days. I seem to have crawled my way out of the funk of the last few days but things are conspiring to keep me down. Weird...

Cheeseheads Unite!

Yesterday I had to go grocery shopping. A task I find particulary tedious. I think food should magical appear behind a stainless steel sliding door like it does on Star Trek. But it doesn't...so I went. My normal shopping journey generally starts badly and ends up with me having a cart full of crap that I can toss in a pan and cook up mindlessly. So, I end up with a lot of mac and cheese and Ramen noodles. This time was different. I don't know what came over me. Maybe it was spring wingding or something but I got totally caught up in the cheese aisle. I ended up getting some excellent Jarlsberg and garlic toasts. I then swung by the fish section and picked up some incredible smoke fish. I then passed through the produce section taking on some fresh pineapple, grapes, and strawberries. I got some of the usual crap too but tonight when I came home I had the fish, cheese and toasts for dinner, followed by a bowl of ice cold fresh berries and a lovely Bloody Mary with garlic stuffed olives in it. I felt decadent.

I realize that I love cheese. Which shouldn't be too surprising since I do live in America's Dairy Land. But I also realized how nice it was to treat myself to something I'd probably only ever eat when out in a restaurant. I think I'm worth it.

If I can get stuff like this maybe grocery shopping isn't that bad after all!

Oh, I HIGHLY recommend those garlic stuffed olives!