i love metallic paper. i had some recent photos printed just for me. kinda the equivalent to an icecream cone. the gleam makes them feel luxurious and slightly ethereal.
i love narnia. with my snobby rejection of walden's representation, i find myself in the paperback we've had since childhood. the rush of familiarity. somehow i know these lands in a way i don't always my own.
i love road trips. supposively a 14ish by 7ish space would mean torture. yet being with the bodies i care for most seems to entail joy. even if smacking is involved. there are the special moments of 70's sycronized clapping, candy rainstorms from waly-world, footrubs and sweaty foreheads on my lap.
i love full moons.
i love godly men. not perfect, but blameless... who passionately strive toward keeping my covenants whole. who patiently bear this world's trials and lack of prosperity. that keep me from retreating into self pity by their faithfulness.
i love music. seabear. the weepies. kate rusby. that one ray lamontagne song. random gifted itunes.
i love time. which mends memory gashes. puts all the glory where it belongs and locks away hate. how through it i am given immeasurable grace. and the promise of loneliness sated.