As I get older, I have come to appreciate the small victories in life. These may range from discovering a pair of jeans that I thought I’d lost to feeling extremely proud that I scoured my bathroom to a sparkling shine to hooking up the wifi from our new router to our printer so we don’t have to walk over and plug in the printer cable. In other words, it doesn’t take much to make me feel excited.
A couple of weeks ago, my bathtub drain was clogged and I researched solutions on Google. You should have seen me smiling from ear to ear after my salt, hot water and baking soda solution actually worked. At least temporarily.
And just last Friday I made a honey-sweetened butter cream frosting that was so smooth I almost pinched myself. I couldn’t believe I had made such a delectable treat to top my chocolate cake. I usually stick to cream cheese frosting because it’s so much easier. But this butter cream was to die for and I made it myself. I could have danced a jig.
But nothing lately has brought me as much joy as watching an orchid one of my students gave me several years back actually bloom again after looking half dead for at least a year. That plant has not flowered once, not twice, but a total of eight times and the fuchsia blossoms are simply beautiful.
I wish I felt confident that I could replicate this success in future, but the truth is I don’t have a clue how this happened. I don’t know if it was the southern window I placed the orchid in after bringing it from a less sunny spot in the living room. I don’t know if my sporadic watering schedule somehow provided just enough – but not too much – moisture for growth. I don’t know if just being in a room where my frequent baking kept the temperature warmer over the winter months and somehow provided just the right climate for my little ailing orchid. But eight blossoms! I am absolutely thrilled.
The only comparable experience of pure happiness was two years ago when I stumbled upon a seamstress in a shop just four blocks away who was available to hem my clothes for a reasonable price. Oh, joy! It’s almost embarrassing just how happy I was to find that lovely woman and her sewing machine.
I am not complaining that tiny details in life make me happy. That is a gift in itself. It’s just hard to explain to others exactly why I am so thrilled. I guess it’s a private thing. Tiny little validations and special moments that are uniquely mine. There’s something lovely to be said for that as well.
Here is a photo of that gorgeous orchid.