- English cheese.
- A good Cabernet.
- The smell of chrysanthemums.
- A clean house.
- Chelsea’s warm skin when we hug.
- Scones and clotted cream.
- Intelligence.
- Freshly ground coffee, brewed in a French press, with cream.
- Sunflowers.
- Rachel’s smile.
- Solitude and silence.
- Fresh walleye.
- Bookstores.
- Bison.
- Ethnic food.
- Navajo rugs and jewelry.
- Hiking.
- Public television and radio.
- Cooking.
- Chunky chocolate chip oatmeal cookies.
- Autumn.
- Lavender.
- Dogs.
- The Badlands.
- Clean sheets, best when dried on a clothesline outdoors.
- The Tetons.
- Roast pork.
- Lucinda Williams.
- British TV and movies.
- Wind rustling cottonwood leaves.
- Costume dramas of all kinds.
- Jackson Browne’s music.
- My Grandma Lily’s rolling pin.
- Good books, mostly non-fiction.
- Garden tomatoes.
- Photography.
- Carrot cake.
- The color turquoise.
- The New Yorker magazine.
- Kayaking.
- Libraries.
- The memory of Mama Crook’s biscuits.
- Maps.
- Irish butter.
- Watching ocean waves breaking on a sandy beach.
- Americana music.
- My Mauviel copper pots.
- Rivers.
- Shelling and eating peas.
- Museums and galleries.
- Mangoes and Washington peaches.
- Stars.
- Prairie Smoke.
- Asparagus.
- Comfortable hiking boots.
- Sleep.
- Sagebrush.
- The Winter Olympics.
- Good newspapers.
- Juneberries.
- Vanderbilt University.
- History.
- Freshly baled hay.
- Ice cream.
- “Hamilton” (The musical).
- Wilderness.
- Petrichor.
- Rosemary and basil.
- Eudora Welty.
- Travel.
- My Google Pixel phone.
- Birds.
- Kindness.
- Fleece.
- Van Gogh.
- National parks.
- All things Great Britain.
- Yoga.
- Camping with Jim.
- Live music.
- Caldecott picture books.
- Fire in my woodstove.
- Dark chocolate.
- Tenting next to a rushing mountain stream.
- Gardening.
Unheralded
