This question was posted on Running With Quills. This is a blog written by some of my favorite authors. I enjoy reading their insights. Sometimes they make me think. The question is:

What brings you the most happiness, the greatest sense of peace. Do you remember one particular day, or series of days in your life with more joy than any others?

So I am thinking. There are some obvious ones, the birth of my boys, their milestones, family reunions... and some not so obvious and these are ones that tend to creep into your mind when you really aren't trying to think of the answer to a question!

Some of my favorite days with my boys were when they were little. When the days weren't a constant rush of we have to be here, do this, go there. On beautiful days I would pack us a picnic lunch, take a blanket outside and park us under a tree. We would blow bubbles, color, read books, do a puzzle. We would eat outside! Why is that, such a common thing, such a treat? We would lay on our backs and watch clouds, close our eyes and listen to birds, watch a spider spin a web and listen for frogs in the pond. Looking back, we didn't have nearly as many of those days as I would have liked.

We read. We read a lot. I hope that is a gift that I gave my children that they will pass on. Before Harry Potter was the craze that it became, I tried to get my oldest to read it. Nothing doing. The youngest was too young to read that yet so I decided we were going to read it every night. We shut off the TV, curled up together on the couch and I read out loud. Eventually #1 son did some of the reading too. We loved those nights. We couldn't wait for the next books. They drew pictures of the things we "saw" in the books. By the end of the series, everyone was fighting over who would get the books first! :-) We still talk about those nights and we have all read the books over and over. My copies are all about worn out.

Remembering things like that give me peace and joy. I also get joy from the things my hands create. I would love to be an artist but that is not my gift I guess. My needlework is as close as I get to creating works of art and they are works that someone else has designed and dozens of others recreate as well. In lots of my projects I have made little changes that make them "mine". There is a peace that comes over me when I pick up a needle. It is a peace that may have been passed down for many generations since I come from a long line of needle workers. I like to think that I am just another knot in the thread.

Then there are things like:
Quiet days on the beach
The smell of apple blossoms coming in my kitchen window
The first violets I find in the grass every year (spring is HERE!)
My golden yellow dog sleeping in the sun in the bright green grass
The first time I hear our spring peepers
Finding a robin's nest in my bushes where I can watch the miracle!
Fresh baked bread
Sheets drying on the line
A good book
My son dressed in his Army uniform, the other son dressed for his first semi-formal (be still my heart)
Summer rain
Tomatoes warm from the garden

I guess life is pretty good huh?