Thai takeaways. Making Lego dinosaurs. The look, smell and feel of a naked woman. The Pogues. Getting brought fresh coffee in bed in the morning. “The Adventures Of Robin Hood” on DVD. Rush Munroe’s feijoa icecream. Giant shower heads. Kissing. Winning the occasional raffle. Merlot. Making plasticene Daleks. Japanese women in sundresses. Mushrooms on toast. “Exile On Main Street”, “Who’s Next” and “London Calling” played really loudly on a Saturday night. Holding hands in public. P. G. Wodehouse.
A hot bubble bath on a cold evening. Warming your cold toes on a portable heater. Getting completely, 100%, I-can’t-put-it-down-and-go-to-sleep hooked on an excellent new novel. Watching a comedy on television that makes you laugh until you cry. Good music. A fun evening out with good friends. All kinds of pie.
When that project I was working on (hobby, whatever) looks good. Donating blood - I don’t actually know that I saved someone’s life, but I just might have done - feels good. Mc Donald’s coffee, black, first thing in the morning, tastes good. That smile on GF’s face…
Backscratches. Going to bed on a winter’s night, when I’ve put the hot water bottle at the foot of my bed, under the covers. Ahhhhh, warm toes!
I love mushrooms, but have never had them on toast. How am I supposed to fix this dish?
The smell of lilacs in bloom. Walking out the door on a really crappy job. The fish dishes at the Phnom Penh in Vancouver’s Chinatown.
Red, ripe tomatoes from my own tomato plant. Cat purrs when you scratch…yes… the right spot! Husband purrs when you scratch…yes…just the right spot! Having someone you really admire recognize your voice on the telephone.
Back scritchies. That look of pure, unconditional love in the SO’s eyes when he looks at me. Laughing at cute things online or otherwise. Finishing a good RPG with the SO. A big, tight hug from a friend. Hot chocolate on a cold night. High-pressured showers. Sleeping in a soft, warm bed with soft blankets next to the SO with one leg and one arm over him. Waking up to the SO’s sleeping face in the morning. The smell of Dial’s Mountain Breeze (I think) soap. Chocolate.
Because it’s August: the smell of freshly cut grass in the summertime. Biting into the perfect ear of corn-on-the-cob, where the butter, salt and corn all mingle in harmony. Looking up at the night sky just in time to see a falling star. Cuddling a dog who wants to be cuddled. Falling asleep because you’re really tired from being outside in the sunshine all day, walking in the woods, and into the ocean and back again, and not from being at work for eight hours. Watching the garden grow; seeing the beans reach for the sky, the little green things resolve into peppers, and the zucchini finally doing what zucchini are supposed to do. Jumping into a lake, and floating on your back, looking up at the blue sky. Good, cold, dark beer. Sleeping with the windows open and falling asleep hearing the nightsounds.
And sex.
Oh, thought of another one - waking up on a weekend morning, nothing to do and nowhere to go, and just lying in bed drifting in a cool, dark, quiet room, perfectly comfortable.
The smell of my son after a hard day at play, the smell of my son after a shower with freshly washed hair. The soft touch of my Darling’s hands on my face. Making love in the bath. A phone call from someone you were just thinking about. Coffee from the boss when you don’t expect it, but he knows you need it. Good champagne. Night swimming - in the nude. The sound of waves on rocks. Finding $10 you forgot you had.
When at any given moment, you and your SO ‘trade looks.’ Whether it be when someone does something incredibly stupid, or just because.
The smell of honeysuckle wafting through the windows in early summer evenings.
Getting a hug from one of your kids for no reason at all.
Nothing easier. You need the really black, juicy field mushrooms - little white button ones are no good - when they’re at their ripest. In fact, slightly too ripe - when the gills are starting to collapse - is even better. Toss a knob of butter in a cast iron frying pan, slice the mushrooms thinly, and saute. Add a small clove of finely chopped garlic, a generous splash of wine, a grind or two of salt and pepper and some chopped fresh basil. Continue sauteing until the mushrooms are throughly cooked in their lovely bubbly black juice, and then serve on thick brown wholemeal toast dripping with butter. The breakfast of champions!
An English summer morning, fish 'n chips, a pint of Boddies, a smile from a friend, a phone call from a loved one, a letter from abroad.
And most of all, waking up to a new day.
Thunder and rain falling hard on the roof while you are warm and have your SO wrapped in your arms and can sleep in; the smell from the kitchen of coffee or bacon or freshly baked bread or cake or pie: a favorite song you haven’t heard for ages suddenly blasts from your car radio and you crank it up - remembering your youth; an unexpected, honest compliment from a friend; a phone call that someone is no longer ill; the crunch of snow under your feet as you head home on Christmas Eve; a good mystery film or book that grabs you until the surprise ending; meeting up with someone you haven’t seen in years and feeling like you are still close friends; laughing often, especially with the person you love.
I can’t think of anything. All the examples mentioned have me going: “Oh yes, that used to be good…some years ago…”
Sigh. Yup, something IS wrong with me. 
Letting chocolate melt in your mouth, then washing it down with black coffee. Stretching tired muscles. Finding a fiver in your wallet when you thought you had nothing. Steak and kidney pies. Flying a kite. The aroma of fresh picked blackberries. Sunlight through a canopy of new beech leaves in spring.
The breakfast of champignons!
Wild mushrooms are just fantastic. Yes, you need to know what you’re doing, but it’s worth the effort. Unfortunately, mushrooms as you describe - at the peak of ripeness - are often infested by numerous little maggots here.
Oh, another one:
Smoked mackerel, warmed and flaked onto thick, buttered granary bread, with horseradish so fresh and hot that it makes you feel like you’re going to die*.
*[sup]That might sound like a bad thing, but part of the pleasure of eating horseradish is the relief you feel when the burn starts to subside, and you realise that you’re not actually going to die[/sup]
The playful twinkling of the suns rays in the kelp forrest, pulling you’re head out of a diving suit, the first bite of freshly caught fish in a frying pan, the smell of coffee in the morning, the feel of a forrest after a heavy rainfall, the sweet taste of homemade blueberry pie with icecream, the satisfied snoring from the dog after a long walk, sleeping in on sundays.