My husband when he makes up silly little songs. Especially when he comes and pokes me when he sings them. Even if they’re awful 
Brand new bars of soap.
Silly video games.
New books when you rifle the pages and the scent fills the air.
Animal pictures when they’re fluffy!
I love it that my nearly 16-year-old daughter still regularly calls me “Mommy.” It make me think that, deep down, I’m still pretty important to her. 
Also:
The incredible softness of my 13-year-old son’s back. I don’t know how he does it. It’s like velvet! Good thing he likes being petted.
When my 6-year-old son asks for a “full body hug” (a term I invented; I admit it). It involves me picking him up and being completely wrapped, arms and legs, in 40 pounds of pure muscle, energy, and love.
Watching a 5-year-old boy zip across the crosswalk yesterday on those sneakers with the little wheels in the soles and then twirl in a circle in sheer joy when he reached the sidewalk.
A picture I copied off the net and put in my screensaver display, that’s a closeup of a young girl with her eyes wide with wonder and amazement. I always smile when I notice that one pop up.
The way our cat Aeris braces all four feet against the couch and shoves herself against my wife’s hip as hard as she can, and then looks up with her “Love me!” expression.
“The crisp horizon of the steppe, the wind in your hair, a fresh horse under you”
“The cry of the white eagle in the heights, the fall of snow in the forest, a true arrow in your bow”
“The sight of your enemy slain, the humiliation of his tribe, the lamentation of his women”
“Hot water, good dentishtry and soft lavatory paper”
On a more serious note:
A baseball painting the corner and hitting an unmoving catchers’ mitt
The feel of the ball hitting the sweet spot of your bat
Hearing your favorite music unexpectedly on a radio somewhere
Our cat Random, barreling in through the catflap, skidding into the corner chasing his tail (at 16)
Riding my BMW bike into the sunset
Making people laugh
The feeling of exhaustion which comes with a days work on the “farm”, be it splitting wood or hauling brush or whatever.
Having a new scientific publication accepted, especially first-authored.
my sweetie.
Catching a very large fish.
(Not in order)
Sorry. I missed the silly part.
Ok, seeing a hawk or otter or deer or coyote or whatever on the “farm”.
A beagle on the trail of a rabbit or a lab when the ducks come in - In those cases, the dog is joy incarnate, and you can’t help but be affected by it.
The excitement of small children when they make a discovery.
This summer, I spent about 50 bucks on vinyl floor tile, and laid it down myself, in my hideout room. Like most tiling, it has some kind of polyurethane shine.
Whoa! That shine! It looks like pure crystal! Like Dom Perignon spread out on the floor, without the inconvenience of having to mop it up! Whenever I see it, I want to hug myself with joy, and congratulate myself for lucking into such a wondrous find!
Best wishes,
hh
When my oldest was little I would lift her long hair and kiss the back of her neck. She had the sweetest little neck with the little hair dipping down in the center. And she always smelled so good.
Now that she’s older I can’t do that anymore. I miss it.
Now my joy comes from watching my 5 year old wiggle her toes as she concentrates on something.
And also when my little dog Buddy gets up in the bed with me at night, curls up in the curve of my back and lets out a contented sigh. That always makes me smile.
My Himalayan cat, Marco, is the epitome of the title of this thread. Every little thing he does is magic. He requires a lot of grooming - a lot - but we always start with his head and under his chin, and he stretches out his neck, eyes closed, purring and purring, just loving it for that moment.
Watching a woodpecker hitting the suet feeder, and a bright red cardinal with his harem pecking at sunflower seeds thrown on the deck. A flock of blue jays screaming for a handful of peanuts thrown out on the deck - they land, pick through the peanuts for a ‘good’ one, and fly off with their prize. Or hold it between their feet and peck it open to eat right there.
Looking out at the yard, with bright sun shining from the south, and to the north, behind the bright trees, an approaching bank of dark slate blue clouds. They’ll get here in a few minutes and everything will be drizzly and gray, but the contrast in the sky those few minutes is just a thing of wonder.
Wake up to an empty house, put on coffee, fire up the MacBook, and already the day is a good one (because the day hasn’t happened yet, duh). I read my mail for the Tarot card of the day, and if it’s favorable, well, that’s a good omen as to how the day will play out.
After a long, hard day, or week, curl up under my deluxe velour blankie and watch a ‘House’-a-thon. Or ‘Dirty Jobs’ marathon. Someone always says, are you watching that AGAIN and I always have to patiently say, yes. Yes, I am. There is no such thing as too much Hugh Laurie or Mike Rowe. 12 hours a day is not too much. Now go away.
Maybe not so little, but greeting my daughter when she comes home from her new job, all bubbly and excited and happy with it makes my heart soar like an eagle. And when she puts gas in my car, which she drives until she gets around to buying her own car…I just tear up, people. I just tear up.
Two very different smells:
The smell of my 3 yo son when he sleeps - intoxicating!
The first smell of India when I’ve just arrived. There is something special about it that takes me by surprise every time I go. It’s the final confirmation of my arrival and the first promise of good times to come.
My 12 yo, 7th grade son…when he voluntarily kisses my cheek before getting out of the car when I drop him off at school…at the front gate where everyone else is being dropped off.
I love watching kids learn something new. I admit that I’m especially partial to my own kids, but watching ANY kid learn is fascinating and just plain awesome – and the younger the better!
I like making people’s days. Any time I’m able to do something for someone that puts a big smile on their face, it just gives me a really good feeling. It always makes my day!
I like making bad jokes. The ones that make everyone groan and they can’t decide whether to laugh or cry or scream in irritation.
I have the same thing except I’m happy that something is burning somewhere. I can only hope its church full of happy people singing about peace and love. It would be nice to laugh that hard again.
Okay, I think you are BOTH strange, your Mother’s dress you funny, and nobody wants to play with either of you!
When my dog Bobby Ranger waits for his daddy to get out of bed so he can get in. This doesn’t happen every day, just when Daddy gets up first. But then he dives right under the covers and is so warm and cozy I could sleep the rest of the day.
When my son has a “real” concern he still comes to me even if he’s really daddy’s boy most of the time.
I sing to my cat, with altered-on-the-spot lyrics… here’s an example:
so, you are the Cat, you’re the great Bouncy Cat!
First you try to slay your tail, Then at catching flies you Fail
You bounce off the wall, and you make us all LOL…
You are Queen of the Mews!*
*to the tune of King Herod’s Song from Jesus Christ, Superstar
This is sort of ooky and gross, but I get much joy from watching my ‘fly-catcher-trap’ fill up with the remains of flies. I only set it up a few days ago, but already the container is half-filled with kamikaze blowies, drowned bushies and a seething mass of hastily-laid maggots all gasping for air and shit.
Sweet.
Oh, and puppies. Puppies are always good for a smile.
How do you winter it over, kambuckta?