“Don’t ever be ashamed of loving the strange things that make your weird little heart happy.”
Elizabeth Gilbert
I suppose it goes with the territory of “aging,” but for some reason, this past week, I noticed some strange things that make me happy. One was stumbling onto Elizabeth’s quote and realizing my heart is weird.
One thing that’s making me happy is my email inbox is approaching a record low of under 100 emails. The delete button is showing signs of wear. That also makes me happy.
Late yesterday afternoon I went to Nightengale’s Dairy to pick up milk. I always stop to say “thanks” to the girls and scratch the interested ones behind the ears and under the chin. Seeing them look expectantly at the truck when I drive in makes me happy. I like to think seeing the truck makes them happy.
If I seem a bit obsessed with bovines, I can offer “We’re Already Here” as an explanation that a summer road trip to Michigan includes a four-day commitment to learning how to train and drive a team of oxen. That will make my weird little heart happy.
Speaking of cows, my Amish friend Rachel in Pennsylvania made a sign for us: “Money can’t buy happiness. But it can buy cows. Cows give milk. Ice cream is made from milk. Ice cream makes me happy.” We gifted it to a friend who loves cows even more than I do, but I think I love ice cream more than she does.
And speaking of Amish, I love my occasional visits with my Swartzentruber friends in Corinth. During a recent stop, the boys and I compared suspenders. It started when they found mine with clips fascinating (weird?). It became a bit of a “You show me yours and I’ll show you mine.” Their suspenders come from a harness maker, are made from leather, and button inside their trousers. That we can share our differences makes my weird little heart happy.
The oldest boy just finished his first year of school, so he now speaks English well, although his Mom had to help us with the word horse–“paard” in Pennsylvania Dutch. I like to think we are learning to celebrate–to love–our sometimes strange differences.
After all, we don’t all love the same kind of ice cream.