My Life's Lesser -- And Greater -- Joys

• That slow dawning of consciousness, wrapped in layered blankets against the chill of the room, with a cat purring away to itself in the nest it has made at my knees.
• Sometimes, I intentionally wake up just so I can slide blissfully back down into sleep.
• Getting up before the sun and seeing it safe into the world for another day.
• Sleeping in (but not too late, else the day is shot before it starts).
• The shower. It sounds so dirty--hot and wet and dark and steamy--and makes me feel so clean.
• The first use of a freshly laundered towel. How it slurps the shower residues off me from the top of my head to my knees.
• How Tux tries to dry off the rest of me -- with his tongue.
• The donning of clothes, especially comfy clothes, and especially especially new socks.
• The Giving Of The Things to the Tux. Never have I seen such an old dog act so much like a puppy as when Tux knows his Cheese and his Biscuit is coming.
• That first shot of coffee. It's a shower for the inside.
• Going to work. Take it from somebody who doesn't right now, the work is secondary to the people at the work, and I miss them.
• Staying home. Take it from somebody who has gone to work, staying home is nice, too.
• That first step outside. The weather doesn't matter: you can feel invigorated by the cold, caressed by fog, warmed by the sun, cuddled by the breeze, cuddled with authority by the wind...rain is hard to get excited about without an umbrella, but remember; there is no bad weather, only bad clothes.
• Peace and quiet. Turning off the yattering television when Eva leaves for work--the only joy in her going to work.
• Petting cats. And the dog, but mostly the cats. As much as I love my Tux, he doesn't purr.
• Connecting with friends on Facebook. Feeling like I make a difference in their worlds. KNOWING they make a huge difference in mine.
• My niece Alexa and my newer niece Lily: watching them discover the world is a sight to behold.
• Reading. Nothing else opens the outer world half as well.
• Music. Nothing else opens the inner world half as well.
• School. Not the commute there, but the actual experience.
• The first hour of the commute home from school, which I share with a classmate now: it makes the bus bearable.
• Anything Eva makes for supper.
• Watching the Toronto Maple Leafs (but only when they win). 
• The slow stealing of fatigue up your body and the knowledge that bedtime is coming.
• Bedtime. To sleep, perchance to dream.