I'm fearless when it comes to killing bugs. And I mean big, juicy awful bugs that previously I would just barely manage trap under a cup and wait for Hero Hubby to take care of. Now they just get squished by moi - sometimes without a tissue... eek.
I'm no longer superstitious in my mother's basement. It used to be, even up until a few years ago, that I still carried the paranoia that a trapped soul would devour my own if I lingered too long in the basement. Not quite a fear of the dark, just a creepy feeling every time I went down there. My mother's basement is not out of the ordinary - it's just a silly hangover from my youth. Present day? I could care less. Go ahead, ghost, take me away from my nagging children.
I love doing the dishes. Prior to my lovely brood, washing the dishes was not an activity I rated high on my "likes" list, nevermind my "loves" list. My how things change. Doing the dishes is like a zen state - a form of meditation. No one will interrupt me, lest I enlist their help.
Very small things make me happy. This one is almost in the category of big changes. Never before had I elated at discovering the Market Basket circular in the mailbox every Wednesday morning, nor did I think twice about the delight found in taking more than three sips of a steaming hot cup of coffee. It is said that it's the little things that make all the difference. Right now I understand that more than ever. Ah, the little things... like getting to write an entire blog post (almost) uninterrupted.
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