Small Pleasures

Following on nicely from my last post where I mentioned that this year is all about appreciating the smaller things in life for me, I happened to read a book called Small Pleasures by The School Of Life. In it are 52 small pleasures and it's inspired me to write down some of my own. So here are some rather mundane (and potentially rather niche) things that bring me great joy:

Draining pasta // It doesn't have to be pasta; it could be rice or potatoes or vegetables, but pasta springs to mind as the food I drain the most. What I really enjoy about draining pasta (or rice or potatoes or vegetables) is that moment the steam suddenly puffs up into your face, giving you a brief wash of hot warm air, which when inhaled gives a little preview of what you're about to eat. 

A pebbly stream // I just really love a pebbly stream! They're usually found in a cute old school village or in the countryside and there's something I find so calming about them. I think this probably relates back to childhood as I remember going paddling in them with a little fishing net (that I'm sure I caught plenty of weeds in). 

Drinking enough water // I have one of those water bottles that counts down the time on the side to make sure you drink enough water throughout the day. It was a gift bought for me for using in labour as it's also one you don't need to tip up to drink from, but it's been great for breastfeeding too because it's easy to grab and drink from (and doesn't spill if I drop it, which happens). It tells me 'GREAT JOB' when I reach the bottom, two words that I glance at and feel quietly smug about every time I do. 

Finishing (and then starting new) beauty products // I'm unsure how to explain this one to do it justice, but there's a brief moment in between finishing off, say, a moisturiser and breaking into a brand new one that I love. It's the satisfaction of completely finishing a product, enjoying it and not wasting any paired with the anticipation of cracking open a brand new and unspoiled one. Once the new one is open the magic disappears and I'm simply waiting for that moment to come around again. 

Sitting cross legged on the floor // Maybe it's because there's something so innocent about sitting cross legged on the floor relating back to the time we were required to do just that with fingers on lips on the carpet at primary school, but something feels very free about the pose. Despite the fact that my back now hurts when I do it, and that it's already getting increasingly difficult to get up off the floor, I'm determined to sit cross legged on the floor for as long as my body lets me.