I used to really like shopping.  Don't get me wrong, I still love it, but I think the initial junior high/high school passion for shopping has become realistic.  I have determined that to shop one must spend money, to spend money one must have money, and even if there's money aplenty, is a new shirt really the best way to spend it? 

Ok, so I'll be the first to admit that not many material things beat the beauty that is felt when wearing a new shirt, and I have more than once kept my grocery bill at a painful low to save clothes shopping money, but after awhile one begins to realize that the glory of a shirt fades -- the new shirt becomes old.

Like I said, the love of shopping, is still there, but I have discovered that shopping is not really that satisfying.  Which brings me to my next point: a satisfying afternoon.

Today I read for four hours all nestled up on the couch, and it was one of the best afternoons I've had in weeks.  I slept horribly last night, and being able to sit on the cushions, the sun and breeze filtering through the screen door, far outweighed the shopping trip I had thoughts of embarking on after church.

Maybe part of maturing is realizing that simple can often times be better.  I went through this phase, well, high school, where shopping, going to the movies, or eating out all ranked high.  Now I realize that buying your own groceries, curling up with a book, or hanging out with your best friends far outweighs them all.

On a completely unrelated note, I have the most beautiful yellow daffodils next to me, which I would say is a direct order for:

"Daffodils"

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

~William Wordsworth