Silly, silly girl

Sometimes I just have to acknowledge that part of me is silly. Take, for example, my love for chia sculptures. They're only sold at Christmastime but each year I find myself looking at them wistfully and some years I actually squelch my shame and buy one. This one has been sitting in its box for two years -- until I finally, just last week, unwrapped the cellophane and seeded it. I think of it as Professor Chia. He lives on a ledge above my kitchen sink where I am amused every time I walk by. It really doesn't take a whole lot to please me -- I feel like a laughing idiot sometimes by my responses to the simplest of little pleasures. Being diagnosed with such lethality has only increased this appreciation for what is so tiny, so mundane, so inconsequential and so much the stuff of life.