autumn leaves are a simple pleasure, the way they pop out against the backdrop of a blue sky that lacks the heavy humidity of summer. the brisk chill of morning - just enough to make your fingers nippy, but with a hint of warmth because the sun hasn't started lying to us yet - is a simple pleasure. blogging is a simple pleasure. the satisfaction of eating a homemade sweet potato pie slice after lunch is a simple pleasure. getting emails from friends is a simple pleasure. having time to spend with friends is a simple pleasure. add to this list having clean drawls because the laundry is done, potting a plant cutting because the roots have come in, hearing an expectant mother fawn over her child, and having a friend do something nice for you just because she knows she can.
enjoying the peace and comfort of your own place is a simple pleasure. talking to God for no particular reason except to say hi is a simple - no, a profound - pleasure. getting the ailing car from point a to point b without incident is a simple pleasure. having the memory of good hugs is a simple pleasure. hearing my parents' voices over the phone is a simple pleasure. getting the crust just right is a simple pleasure. the warmth and smell from baking all day that hovers in my place is a simple pleasure. sharing terence blan.cha.rd's latest cd with friends and talking about the virtues of fer.tile grou.nd's performances with like minded music lovers is a simple pleasure. my best friend's mashed potatoes are a simple pleasure. seeing that my cousin's baby girl has outgrown her walker because she walks so well is a simple pleasure that makes me proud (though wistful because her innocence is fading so rapidly).
such things do much to outweigh the chores of paying bills, making adult decisions, bad dreams, and first dates which incidentally happen to be last dates.