Tiny Little Things

Getting there.

Next to my bed, there is a white nightstand, on top of which sits a glass lamp, a stack of US Weeklys that I’ll probably never get around to reading, and a half-empty La Croix can. It’s exactly the same assortment of stuff that sat on my nightstand a week ago, with one little difference: the outlets aren’t loose, so I don’t have to jam the nightstand up against the light plug to hold it into the wall.

It’s a tiny thing.

It’s nice.

Other tiny, nice things that happened this weekend:

My father made me insane, as fathers do, but he also sat next to me in my backyard while I cried and held my hand.

My neighbors – what seemed like all of them – came by to say hi. They left sweet notes on my door with suggestions for the best farmers markets. They brought over orchids, bottled water, and a cold Modelo. We hugged, and exchanged numbers, and talked about succulents.

A longtime Internet friend – dating back to the NonSociety days (omg) – who I’ve never met in person before but who now lives just an exit away from me brought over a bottle of wine, ugly pumpkins (the very best kind) for my fireplace, and Halloween cookie-making kits for my kids. We plopped down on the floor in my empty living room and talked about things I didn’t know you could talk about with someone new to your life. Like everything.

Afternoon nap + cat photobomb

I took multiple afternoon naps, because I could

I installed the Ferrari of security systems, and my doors now talk to me in gentle, dulcet tones (“Front door…opening”).

I did not have Internet for three entire days, and that was okay.

I found out that I can see the Kardashians and/or Drake from my backyard (go look at my IG stories). This is obviously huge, and obviously necessitates the creation of new hashtags. I’m feeling #RamshackleSpyCam and #KardashianAdjacent, but am open to suggestion.

Lucy fell in the pool six more times, but a) turns out to be quite the talented swimmer and b) seems to have figured out where the step is now.

My cats finally emerged from the cabinet where they had spent the first two days hiding from That Evil Person Who Puts Them in Bags (me).

I found a really good pizza place that will (reluctantly) deliver to me.

I discovered that I live in paradise. I feel silly-lucky. And happy. And home.

powered by chloédigital