After returning from DC last week, I promptly came down with a cold, and Tank developed a hoof abscess that has required hours of soaking, poulticing, and wrapping. Not a lot of writing has taken place here at Catching Happiness headquarters, so Link Love to the rescue! (We are both feeling much better, thank you for asking.) So without further ado:

Tomorrow, March 20, is the United Nations International Day of Happiness. (I’ve written about it here and here.) Download a free happiness guidebook here—and go forth and celebrate!

The focus of this blog is money, but these tips address deeper matters.

We often focus on striving for goals, trying to better ourselves, or fix things we think are wrong with our lives—but what if your life is mostly delightful? Jennifer Louden answers that question in “How to Stay the Course When Your Life Is Truly Delightful.”

One small way to prepare for the bad days that creep into even a delightful life, make yourself a box of happy things. My box would contain a few coloring pages and colored pencils, some individually wrapped chocolate turtles (or similar), and something funny to read—maybe something by P.G. Wodehouse or Bill Bryson. What would you put in yours?

Mistakes give us the chance to exercise our intelligent creativity, writes my friend Laure Ferlita in “The Gateway to Creativity: Mistakes.” Applicable to areas of life other than art, too! 

I dare you not to say awww at least once during this video:

“When I grow weary of what’s undone or anxious about what’s to come, I remind myself that I am not the maker or the order taker in this life. I am this life, and it is unfinished. Even when it is finished it will be unfinished. And so I take my sweet time. Time is savored when you take it by the hand.”

 —Karen Maezen Miller, Hand Wash Cold

Last week, my husband and I took a quick trip to the Washington, D.C. area to house/pet sit for his sister. We’ve been to DC a couple of times so we were relaxed about our sightseeing plans, mainly looking forward to a break from the normal, to relaxing and being together without worrying about Scout (this is the first trip we’ve taken since we lost her).

The advantage of going at this time of year is that there are fewer tourists. The disadvantage is that some things are closed and there is not much green or blooming, the famous cherry trees still bare branches against the sky. No matter. It was a change of scenery—and cold! (We are so seldom cold in Florida that we like it!) We even got snow our first night. We woke to an exquisitely silent and lovely world. Crocus peeking through the snow, the lamppost wearing a cap of white, trees jacketed with it. My sister-in-law’s neighbors were amused by the crazy Floridian on her knees taking photos. “Pretty, isn’t it?” one of them remarked as she walked by on her way to the metro.

We managed to pack quite a bit into our four full days. Here are some highlights (click to enlarge photos):

The Hirshhorn Sculpture Garden. My husband dubbed this “Pizza Cutter With a Fresh Hairdo”:

National Gallery of Art, where we only took in some of the Dutch, Flemish, and Impressionist paintings and I strolled though the extensive and fabulous gift shop. Watched this artist adding to her canvas, and heard her tell another guest she’d already spent 30 hours on it, with perhaps 20 more to go:

Rested our feet and got out of the cold by taking the Circulator bus ($1 for two hours of hop on/hop off travel) down to the MLK Memorial, new since we were last in DC. Striking figure emerging from the granite:

Paid our respects at the Lincoln Memorial:

Saw the pandas at the National Zoo:

Of course, I had to visit Capitol Hill Books, a used book store just across the street from the Eastern Market (see below)—a completely enchanting warren of rooms packed with books from floor to ceiling. I bought five books and easily could have bought more—only stopping because I didn’t have room in my suitcase.

Explored the Eastern Market near Capitol Hill:

Gaped at the Bonsai exhibit at the National Arboretum. The oldest specimen has been “in training” since 1625:

Explored the streets of Old Town Alexandria, though all the museums were closed because it was Monday (oops):

Thanks to Sally and Ben for giving us the chance for some everyday adventures—we’re happy to pet sit anytime)!

Introduction by Ted Kooser: Nancy Willard, who lives in New York state, is one of my favorite poets, a writer with a marvelous gift for fresh description and a keen sense for the depths of meaning beneath whatever she describes. Here’s a poem from her newest book.

The Vanity of the Dragonfly

The dragonfly at rest on the doorbell—

too weak to ring and glad of it,

but well mannered and cautious,

thinking it best to observe us quietly

before flying in, and who knows if he will find

the way out? Cautious of traps, this one.

A winged cross, plain, the body straight

as a thermometer, the old glass kind

that could kill us with mercury if our teeth

did not respect its brittle body. Slim as an eel

but a solitary glider, a pilot without bombs

or weapons, and wings clear and small as a wish

to see over our heads, to see the whole picture.

And when our gaze grazes over it and moves on,

the dragonfly changes its clothes,

sheds its old skin, shriveled like laundry,

and steps forth, polished black, with two

circles buttoned like epaulettes taking the last space

at the edge of its eyes.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2012 by Nancy Willard from her most recent book of poems, The Sea at Truro, Alfred A. Knopf, 2012. Poem reprinted by permission of Nancy Willard and the publisher. Introduction copyright 2013 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.

Photo courtesy Stefan Gustafsson