The smell after it rains, wet sage...yum. The scent of my perfume, Il Bacio, after it has mixed with my body heat.

Sitting on the beach alone, digging my fingernails into the warm sand...

The feel of dark warm crumbly earth as I start to work the spring soil into a flower bed and the velvety feel of Desert Peace's petals.

The setting sun's rays glowing threw the red/orange fall leaves.

Crisp mornings and hot coffee.

The comfort of fog on my face.

The ability to walk away from...?

Being in the book store for hours and loving every minute of it, reading and being lost to the authors' worlds. Evocative words...

Laugh lines on the face or paper.

Neck biting, ear lobe sucking or shoulder biting... Oh I almost forgot nape of the neck hair-pulling.

Music. Stevie Nicks, Eagles, Heart and others.

The White House restaurant... for dinner & jazz.

Horseback riding on warm summer nights.

Watching the moon rise over the lake from my back deck...

Butterflies and hummingbirds in my garden.

The pain of working on a child and not being able to save its life.

The kiss of my son every morning.

Being a little girl with my son...

Watching my son learn to surf this past summer.

Reading the Secret Garden to my son, complete with accents.

'Hearts Desire Beach', Half Moon Bay, Crystal Cove, Laguna and Dana Point.

Cooking for people I love.

Big bulky socks on my cold, cold winter toes.

The feeling I get when I learn something new.

Other people's children calling me Mama.

Hot steaming showers-till my honey colored skin turns red...

Climaxes that make you want to cry.

Scary, scary movies...

People that are different, from the norm.

My beastly little dog.

The sound of The fog horn...

The year 1959, the month Jan, the day, 23 and the number 3, that is some of

the sum.......