A List of the Everyday Things That Delight Me

As inspired by the brilliant Dolly Alderton.

Last weekend, Dolly Alderton's newsletter appeared in my inbox as I flew to Boston. (If you haven't subscribed yet, you absolutely should). In it, she shared the idea of a delight list - a list where you describe your simplest, everyday pleasures in life.

As Dolly says, "the people who are truly happy are the people who can find pleasure in the habitual. They’re not enlightened, they don’t know something everyone else doesn’t. They just know how to be grateful for the granular rather than focussing on the big absences in their lives."

So, without further ado, here's a list of the everyday things that bring me delight. What would be on yours?

  • Chips wrapped in paper. The proper, greasy chip shop kind. 
  • Truffle fries in overpriced restaurants.
  • Truffle mac and cheese.
  • Chocolate truffles.
  • Oh fuck it, all of the truffles.
  • Green juices that actually taste edible.
  • Popcorn accompanied by a good film in a cosy cinema. I’ll have a large salt, please.
  • Rustic bread and olive oil. Dip, eat, repeat.
  • Waking up feeling refreshed. 
  • Hot tubs because I’m tacky like that.
  • Rooftop swimming pools.
  • Swimming in sea that's as warm as a bath.
  • Singing terribly in the car. 
  • Being generous to the people I love.
  • Avoiding my bank balance for days after said generosity.
  • A good hair day.
  • A good outfit day. 
  • A good leather jacket, preferably from Whistles.
  • A well-tailored coat that fits just right.
  • A podcast you indulge in from beginning to end.
  • Fancy foreign movies.
  • Trashy romantic comedies.
  • The moment when your writing just works.
  • The moment when another human just getsit
  • Water. I (try to) drink 3 litres a day and it’s never enough. 
  • Brazilian people, Brazilian music, everything Brazilian except maybe the food and definitely the corruption. Sorry, motherland.
  • Anything written by Nora Ephron.
  • Rodrigo Amarante’s singing voice.
  • Allen Ginsberg’s poem, America. 
  • Fernando Pessoa’s The Book of Disquiet.
  • Frank Ocean’s album Channel Orange.
  • Eye cream. I’m not sure it does much, but I like to think my future self will thank me for it. 
  • Manuka honey when I feel like living the middle class dream.
  • Hot water with lemon. 
  • Calling my parents.
  • Any conversation that goes beyond “how are you?” and niceties. 
  • Especially the conversations that become brutally honest and insightful.
  • Reading other people’s excellent blogs.
  • Hearing that some people actually like my blog. Seriously, thank you.
  • Celebrating with friends about nothing at all.
  • Complaining with friends about absolutely everything.
  • Having friends who I can ask anything
  • My god, my FRIENDS. Full stop. 
  • Sending/receiving WhatsApp voice memos.
  • My boyfriend’s ability to do absolutely any accent, flawlessly. 
  • Being welcomed home by my boyfriend.
  • My boyfriend.
  • Taxi journeys in countries I’ve never visited. 
  • Speaking Portuguese.
  • Speaking Portuguese while in suburban Britain as a bitching mechanism. 
  • Going for a walk alone in the park. Any park will do, but one with a lake is preferable. 
  • Linking arms while strolling on a leisurely day.
  • Learning something new each day.
  • Having time to read a good book. 
  • Declaring that I “have no time”.
  • Any human with a delicious laugh. 
  • Looking at old photos for hours on a lazy Sunday. 
  • Reading newspaper supplements in bed. 
  • The sight of New York from Brooklyn Bridge.
  • London, except perhaps Brent Cross.
  • The drive from Cape Town down Chapman's Peak.
  • The drive from San Francisco to Los Angeles via the Big Sur.
  • Time spent in Rio de Janeiro and its grittier cousin, São Paulo.
  • A crimson sky after a tiring day that somehow makes everything seem worth it.
  • Imagining the future, and whatever it may entail. 

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