January 3: Sunday Afternoon Moment
Kristen Lindquist
It's a wonderful thing when you can take a look around you and say, "In this moment right now, I'm happy."
Here's my moment: I'm watching the Patriots game while I eat my lunch of pretzel crisps, Brie, and really good fig spread with almonds and apricots.
What makes this moment such a good one? Well, set-up is part of the equation. Paul and I shoveled a lot of snow this morning. (And I added bird species #6-9 to my First Birds of the Year list.) Then we ran some errands. Now, the groceries are put away, a pretty, new orchid sits in my window, there's nothing left on my "to do" list, and I'm free to watch the game--alone, which means I can also blast the heat and yell at the screen. It's the last game of the regular season, but they've already clinched the AFC East title, so nothing rests on a victory here. My moment is that perfect point in time between a satisfactory past--lots of sleep and the completion of all I'd planned for this three-day weekend (taking down Christmas, massive cleaning)--and a positive future--the unusual luxury of several hours ahead of me for which I have nothing planned.
Also, though a wet snow still spits out the window, the big storm is mostly over. So no more anxiety about possibly losing power in a blizzard. And hopefully no worries about having to wake up early tomorrow to shovel out my car so I can get to work on time.
A high moment for me often involves food, as well--either a special or favorite food, or a meal joyously shared with family or friends. My unusual Brie and pretzel combo is a weekend lunch favorite. And sports is another important factor. I unapologetically love watching sports, be it Patriots football, Red Sox baseball, the Kentucky Derby, a Federer-Nadal finals match in the French Open, or the Winter Olympics. So for an indoors moment, this one contains all the elements for happiness. (Outdoors moments almost always involve birding...) I'm content as my cat now snoring away in her laundry room cubby. And grateful for it.
Brie and pretzel lunch,
Sunday afternoon football--
all's good in my world.
Here's my moment: I'm watching the Patriots game while I eat my lunch of pretzel crisps, Brie, and really good fig spread with almonds and apricots.
What makes this moment such a good one? Well, set-up is part of the equation. Paul and I shoveled a lot of snow this morning. (And I added bird species #6-9 to my First Birds of the Year list.) Then we ran some errands. Now, the groceries are put away, a pretty, new orchid sits in my window, there's nothing left on my "to do" list, and I'm free to watch the game--alone, which means I can also blast the heat and yell at the screen. It's the last game of the regular season, but they've already clinched the AFC East title, so nothing rests on a victory here. My moment is that perfect point in time between a satisfactory past--lots of sleep and the completion of all I'd planned for this three-day weekend (taking down Christmas, massive cleaning)--and a positive future--the unusual luxury of several hours ahead of me for which I have nothing planned.
Also, though a wet snow still spits out the window, the big storm is mostly over. So no more anxiety about possibly losing power in a blizzard. And hopefully no worries about having to wake up early tomorrow to shovel out my car so I can get to work on time.
A high moment for me often involves food, as well--either a special or favorite food, or a meal joyously shared with family or friends. My unusual Brie and pretzel combo is a weekend lunch favorite. And sports is another important factor. I unapologetically love watching sports, be it Patriots football, Red Sox baseball, the Kentucky Derby, a Federer-Nadal finals match in the French Open, or the Winter Olympics. So for an indoors moment, this one contains all the elements for happiness. (Outdoors moments almost always involve birding...) I'm content as my cat now snoring away in her laundry room cubby. And grateful for it.
Brie and pretzel lunch,
Sunday afternoon football--
all's good in my world.