Respiration Alterations

From the Cafe Writing February Project:

"Option Two: Seven Things

Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs. ~William Shakespeare

Give me seven things that make you sigh. You are not required to provide any explanations, but it’s more interesting for readers if you do."

1) Marzipan drenched in dark chocolate.
I adore the bitterness of the chocolate contrasted with the mealy mouth-feel of the almonds. I try to save some for later, but I always return to the bar within the hour.

2) The second movement of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony
I hadn't listened to it for a while, tired as I was of the overexposed and churchified final movement. I heard a snippet of it on an NPR commentary on Beethoven's health (he was deaf and ill when he composed it) and gave it another whirl. I was amazed at how I managed to overlook the first two movements for so long. I like to listen to it while cooking. The abrupt flourishes of the second movement make me want to fling ingredients dramatically into pots.

3) Photos of adoptable dogs from the county shelter
Those eyes break my heart. I want to keep all of them.

4) Men who are fantastic dancers (or those who really try)
I contra dance regularly. Age, personality, and looks fade to insignificance when I encounter a man with strong arms, talented feet, and an ear for the beat. I sigh, or I gasp from overexertion.

5) My oolong tea from Seattle
When I sip the earthy brew, I remember the tiny shop in the International District from which it was purchased, the kindly Chinese man who provided me the hour's worth of samples, and my friend Elizabeth who accompanied me on the tea quest.

6) Smallville
My guilty pleasure. Every Thursday I cook something special and park myself in front of the television with racing pulse, hopeful that this week Superman will learn to fly.

7) My morning dog
Trixie emerges from beneath her mound of blankets each morning, eager to greet the new day. She dances from edge to edge of the bedroom, thrilled with the prospects of breakfast and the outdoors. When I crouch to her level, the wriggling bundle of warmth leaps into my arms.