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The simple things which bring a little moment of solo joy....
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Running up the stairs and popping out a little trump with each step.
Soaking in the bath for as long as you like.
Putting on new PJ's.
Wearing fluffy socks.
Trolley surfing.
Sliding on wet grass.
Hunting the best willy shaped veg at the supermarket...... and then taking them to the checkout.
Rolling on giant bubble wrap.
Spelling rude words with alphabetti spaghetti.
Going to bed seriously early - just because you can. |
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"Running up the stairs and popping out a little trump with each step.
Soaking in the bath for as long as you like.
Putting on new PJ's.
Wearing fluffy socks.
Trolley surfing.
Sliding on wet grass.
Hunting the best willy shaped veg at the supermarket...... and then taking them to the checkout.
Rolling on giant bubble wrap.
Spelling rude words with alphabetti spaghetti.
Going to bed seriously early - just because you can."
Apart from the farting up the stairs one this sounds like my perfect day.
But I will add ... When my little buyouts his arms around my neck and pulls me in close for a big cuddle x |
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Marks and Spencers ready meals from their Gastropub range....
Opening the blinds and seeing the sun streaming into your room after a few days of rain....
Crisp, clean cotton sheets and duvet cover....
Friday at Five O'clock.... |
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By *icketysplitsWoman
over a year ago
Way over Yonder, that's where I'm bound |
Watching a bit of kulcha on the tv without having a "discussion" about missing something else on another channel.
Finding the bag of maltesers still in the cupboard when you go looking for it.
Dancing around the living room with gay abandon. |
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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago
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Making up nonsense words and getting the giggles over it with my daughter.
Clean sheets line dried is one of my favs,roll on warmer weather.
Bubble baths.
Coffee first thing in a morning. |
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"The sound of rain lashing against the window when you're safe and warm in bed"
especially when listening to the rain on the tent canvas or caravan roof ...or the gentle swaying of the boat when tucked up in a cosy bunk listening to the wind outside |
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A fire on the beach - winter or summer.
Winter sunshine, once described by a poet as 'the heart's heat'.
Getting into a freshly changed bed.
Laughing.
Sometimes, crying.
Doing either of these with true friends.
Cooking. The moment when onions are sliding and sizzling in a little butter ...
Fucking.
Getting steadily merry in the pub on a Sunday afternoon.
Fucking.
Buying a new lipstick.
Walking the dog.
Tea.
Making pancakes.
Oh, and, erm - fucking. |
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