Cutting the grass on the weekends - the deep, green smell of it and trying to make the neatest, straightest lines possible.
Wearing dresses and shorts and feeling the sun and wind hit these bare, forever white legs. (Not really loving having to shave every day though, let's keep it real here.)
Saying good-morning to my neighbors on our daily walks downtown and returning the grins we get as we make our way down the sidewalk with our beast of a stroller.
Getting back into reading actual books again, and the game of picking out one book a week from the library as fast as I can before Silas pulls a shelf-full to the floor. Reading a paragraph here and there during nap times and feeding times and sometimes bathroom times, because really, it's basically the only sanctuary left to me in this noisy, overflowing house.
Yoga class is a sanctuary. I relish the stillness and quietness of the studio. I love feeling a little stronger, a little more flexible each week. I especially love the practice of shavasana at the end of every class, where you lay in perfect stillness, "corpse pose,"and literally feel the day's stress and tension rolling off of you like beads of water.
Filling our gas tank up maybe every two or three weeks now, because other than the grocery store, we can literally walk everywhere.
The weight and feel of 5 and 1/2 months-old Oona in my arms, and the softness of her fuzzy bit of hair brushing my cheek as she dozes on my shoulder.
Tacos and frozen fruit pops from El Huarche, iced coffee from Lemonjellos, butterscotch sundaes from Captain Sundae.
Little trails of sand in the kitchen, the bathroom, the bedrooms, diapers...reminders from quick visits to the state park.
The way Lake Macatawa changes colors like a mood ring, depending on the weather. Greenish black in storms and deep, deep blue on clear days.
Swinging on the porch swing in the evening.
Summer is the best.