I love Peggy. She is kind and wise, and the best thing that ever happened to me.
I love baking crackers, cornbreads, and biscuits. I also love making soups and pancakes.
I love to write. I also love to read but not nearly as much as I love to write.
I love my new cat, Brewsky—aka Fuckface when Peggy isn’t around (“Isn’t that just like a man?” she would say.)
I love it when Peggy massages my shoulders each day.
I love the fact that, although I am in pain, I can still see, hear, and get around.
I love it that pain has made me stronger.
I love it that modern medicine has kept me alive when I would otherwise be dead.
I love camping with Peggy in remote areas.
I love learning about rocks and native plants.
I love oatmeal and mayonnaise but never together.
I love it that age has enabled me to give up most of my idolization of women. I love it that Peggy stayed with me during all the years before this was true.
I love having Ellie for a neighbor.
I love to dig. If I had my health back, and if digging didn't make such a mess, I could do it everyday simply for the joy of it.
I love living in the city instead of in the country.
I love it that I bike more often than I drive.
I love Peggy’s room, especially her “rabbit shrine” and her glass crystals that catch the sunlight and throw hundreds of rainbows.
I love PBS (Public Broadcasting Service).
I love a lot of Western movies and TV shows from before 1960 and a few after 1960.
I love it that I’m mostly unconcerned about what people think of me.
I love being able to do almost anything to a house that needs doing.
I love how much Peggy enjoys her button collection. I also love how much she enjoys her music collection and her Christmas ornaments.
I love my blog buddies.
I love Busby Berkeley dance numbers.
I love the beach, the desert, the forest, and the mountains.
I love keeping my house clean, orderly, and in good repair.
I love dark chocolate.
I love the bliss of narcotics in the middle of the night when pain awakens me.
I love the taste and the warm glow of hard liquor.
I love Baroque music. I also love cowboy music, both old and new.
I love the sound of an electric guitar.
I love my dog, Bonnie Blue, and I love my memories of dogs that have died.
I love cuddling in front of an old movie with a bowl of popcorn on a cold night.
I love having gained in prudence, knowledge, and wisdom over the years.
I love spring, summer, and fall.
I love coffee, strong and black.
I love making my yard look nice.
I love going to the nursery with Peggy to buy plants for our garden. I also love it when we go to Costco and say we’re having a “date.”
What the Bee is to the Floweret - What the Bee Is To the Floweret by Thomas Moore What the bee is to the floweret, When he looks for honey-dew, Through the leaves that close embower it, Th...