In the interest of cultivating a spirit of gratefulness, here is my offering of things for which I am grateful. I happen to like packages that come in sevens.
1. a buck was seen in our backyard last night by my neighbor at 3 am. he said it was magnificent, the biggest he's ever seen, and he watched as the buck jumped over our fence and ran across the street to the park.
2. the old rusty fence is low enough to let in a buck and to not cut us off from our neighbors (though sometimes i do wish for a little more privacy).
3. i organized the boys' multitude of toys into a manageable collection. piles into the trash and piles to give away. how do we accumulate so much crap?!
4. my boys have a multitude of toys
5. a hawk (don't ask me what species) flew through our yard today and perched for awhile on a nearby lamp post
6. i am flying the flag on this veterans' holiday. it belongs to all americans, not just the uber-patriotic war mongering ignorant ones. me: "do you know what a veteran is?" bennett: "it's someone who makes it so we have a day off of school."
7. i can choose NOT to fly the flag, if i so wish.
and are you grateful? and what for? and why does it matter?
3 comments:
I'm grateful for my bed at night. I love that feeling of sliding under the covers and sttttrrrreeetchhhinnngg out my legs.
AHHH.
Dependable babysitters. Muscat. Date night. Tivo. A forgiving husband who kindly forgets, too. And more than I care to admit, I am grateful for the cosmetic counter saleswoman who said my bangs were "perfect."
I am in Chicago sitting on someone's guest bed, pajama clad, laptop ever near. It is sleeting outside. I can see the trains rumble by every few minutes. Eric pops in every hour or so to bring me slices of warm banana bread so I don't succumb to starvation. I alternate between Connie Francis and Rufus Wainwright, the same two songs over and over. I sip cold Starbucks on the table beside me. I've been conversing with a girl in Germany whom I've never met. After six long weeks of listening to her relationship woes, I finally broke down and called her boyfriend a fruitcake. She contacted me about an hour later. She'd "looked after" the word in her dictionary. She thought it was an hilarious description of him and headed off to the Christmas market in Nuremberg. I looked at Google images of Nuremberg for a bit.
In short, I am grateful for warmth and freedom and people who love me and leave me alone without making me feel guilty. I am thankful for flannel pajama bottoms and fleece socks and the smells wafting up from the kitchen, created entirely by someone who is not me.
I am grateful for intelligent people who take the time to write down their thoughts, even if they are unsure that they will be properly cherished by the reader. Or if they will be read at all.
Happy Thanksgiving.
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