A list.

Evenings with food, wine and most importantly friends are pretty spectacular, aren't they? Not in a jaw-dropping-once-in-a-lifetime kind of way, but in a I-wouldn't-be-anywhere-else-right-now way. A simple and perfect pleasure is Sunday night club. For the record, Sunday night club can happen on any day of the week. Often Mondays.
And the best bit of nights out is dressing up: simultaneously dancing around in a towel to encourage your nail varnish to dry, applying your mascara without smudging said nail varnish, and drinking whiskey.
And how beautiful it is waking up at the crack of dawn, hearing birds singing and knowing you don't have to get up until midday and then getting up anyway; cycling through sunny London or wearing wellies in the rain so you can walk through all the puddles; looking up words in the biggest dictionary you own; realising the trees are getting leaves in the spring, and piles of colourful crackly leaves in autumn that of course you jump in when no one is looking.
Coffee shops, hummus and pita, dressing up in vintage shops, fresh flowers.
The kind of wind that cleans you. Blows away the cobwebs.
The view from a mountain or the top of a tree. Climbing a mountain or a tree.
Museum trips. Deciding with a friend when in the past you might be from or making note of the method for making shrunken heads, just in case someone upsets you that much.
Often I realise I'm talking to myself in Italian because these conversations always go very well. I understand everything and that makes me happy.
When I get an actual letter, not just bills or junk mail, it makes my day. Writing letters too. I like writing.
Poems, the delicious taste of them on your tongue and in your head. Dedicating them to inanimate objects. The Owl and the Pussy Cat, Carol Ann Duffy, Simon Armitage. I saw him live once. He's so rock 'n' roll.
The feeling of stepping off a train or aeroplane and learning how the air smells in another place. Getting lost and finding something wonderful, be it some interesting graffiti or a castle wall. Old churches and cathedrals, how the stained glass windows drench your skin with a million colours and how loud the quiet is there.
Flying. And train journeys which are like flying but closer to the ground.
Dancing, dancing and dancing everywhere without knowing I'm doing it. Dancing is like speaking. Or breathing because you don't have to think, but when you do you can feel life to the very tips of your fingers.
When you see someone for the first time in forever and within two and a half minutes it's like you've never been apart.
Sitting around the dining room table with my family. I got lucky there.
A cup of tea and a couple of chocolate digestives. Thinking I don't like cheese then not being able to leave that baked Camembert alone.
Reading and being so absorbed you aren't even aware of your own body let alone what anyone else is saying to you. The smell of paper and ink in a new book. The smell of dust and love in an old one.
Hugs. Ones that make you feel like you are sharing lungs.
Cleaning your teeth. Cleaning your teeth while standing on one leg, or wandering around the house, or attempting to have a conversation. The feeling of sharp mint once you have cleaned your teeth.
The excitement of watching someone open a present you bought. Making someone smile. Doing a nice thing for a stranger. Or when a stranger is unexpectedly nice to you. Like when you are running for the bus in vain but the driver slows down to drive alongside you and wave before letting you on and joking that you almost beat him.
Rainbow drops. Rainbows. The rainbow duvet at my parents house.
The heat of a bonfire. The coolness of the sea. Sand between your toes. Skimming stones.
Well, I feel crazy happy now. All this wonderful stuff in my life! I know this is just a list but try it. How content you will be.