Since I used my space last week airing a collection of grievances, I thought I'd do a reversal and take some time this week to highlight things that delight me to no end, perhaps even more than they should for a person who claims to have a proper perspective on life in 2009.

For starters, my digital video recorder. I know I've expounded on the virtues of a DVR before, but the wonders of this technology — especially for parents of young children — can't be overstated.

You can have your independent films, your cutting-edge music, your great American novels. My cultural addiction is television, and the DVR keeps me connected. I never miss an episode of "Jeopardy!" I can pause a baseball game at a crucial moment because it's time to put the kids to bed. I can zip through an hourlong drama in 40 minutes. I can fall deeply in love with a new sitcom and yet be totally unaware of what time it actually airs.

For me, the DVR is the ultimate "how did we live without..." development in recent years. This is not to detract from things like cell phones, microwaves and Facebook, which all have impacted me in profound and lasting manners. But the DVR, to me, is like indoor plumbing. Sure, I could watch TV the way I used to. But I'd no sooner revert to that than I would trade out my three toilets for a nice collection of chamber pots.

Another thing I've been reveling in lately? The afternoon walk. Weather permitting (and I'm willing to tolerate quite a bit on that front), tacking a 15- to 20-minute stroll through the neighborhood at the end of the lunch hour has gone from a fitness concession to an almost essential element of overall happiness.

Just a little bit of fresh air (even if it's raining) plus some time to be alone with either my thoughts or (more likely) my iPod and its endless megabytes of sports talk radio podcasts can have a remarkable impact on whether or not I have a "good" day. Walking is good for the body and soul. Winter is fast approaching, and I may have enjoyed my last two-hour Saturday morning stroll for the next few months, but I will do whatever I can to keep that noontime meandering on the agenda.

I come also in praise of facial issue with lotion. My family is in the midst of a particularly intense battle with ear infections, flu and feverish conditions, and we're all blessed to be in a household that can afford to spend just a little extra cash for facial tissue that doesn't rub the outermost layer of facial skin raw.

I'm sure it's not the most Earth-friendly approach, and maybe the bugs we all picked up could have been prevented with more fervent anti-germ policies on the home front. But we're sick and miserable, all four of us, and I can't bear to think how much worse it would be if the facial tissues we use were part of the problem.

Another simple pleasure? Watching a 19-month-old boy jump into a pile of leaves just because he can. No one really taught him how or why to play in leaves. He just figured, of his own accord, there'd be nothing more fun than being waist-deep in foliage.

On the whole, I'd rather my ancestors settled somewhere in America that never sees snow or hurricanes, but we live in the Midwest, and that means making the best of the situation. (Remind me of this in January when I spend 90 minutes shoveling my driveway just to get one car free.)

I'm also a big fan of food. I've fallen hard and fast for honey crisp apples in the last few weeks. Last Friday I had a sandwich consisting of gyros meat, polish sausage, and barbecue and cheddar cheese sauces on a pita. On Saturday I went to the Great American Cooking Expo at Harper College in Palatine and noshed on, among others, elk, pheasant, buffalo and ostrich meat (all "organic") plus drank eggnog so smooth it made me regret all the eggnog I'd ever consumed. I'm looking foeard to the chance to go to Milwaukee and eat at a place I saw on TV that sells a bacon cheeseburger that uses grilled cheese sandwiches for a bun.

I could go on, but that's enough revelry for one week. Just as it feels good to blow of some steam every so often, it also feels great to count blessings, inane as they may be. Try it yourself — maybe while taking a walk. You won't regret it.

• SCOTT T. HOLLAND is a former associate editor of The Times.