Count my blessings, shall we? Ok, lets. People should do this, and I promised a while back that I would. So here it is.
My children are healthy. I am healthy. My husband is healthy—Ok I am grateful for all the people I know who are healthy. They are healthy today and I am grateful for that.
My husband is comptetent and smart. He has accepted that sweats and slippers are my destiny, so much so that he can barely contain his excitement when he sees me in jeans. He stepped up to the plate 18 years ago when I had no good reason to believe he would, and he’s been going to bat for me ever since.
My youngest son still holds my hand sometimes in public and hugs me back when I hug him.
My oldest son sometimes seeks out my company to tell me something exciting. He laughs at my jokes. He laughs at all.
Today was a good asthma day.
My family is a wellspring of strength, love, writing material and encouragement. Those who have extra sanity to give, give it freely. Those who don’t, have taken a bullet for me.
My sister knows exactly how weird I am, and she loves me anyway.
My mother-in-law is quietly and deeply good to me. My sister-in-law comments in clever and relevant ways on my blog, I am grateful for this because it is evidence that people read my blog.
I live in the United States of America. I am almost never afraid for my life. I have consistently clean water and reliable electricity. In 10 minutes I can walk to the bank, the hardware store, a million restaurants, the Ice Cream Shop and Penzey’s.
My house is solid and beautiful. My neighbors are my best friends. They are interesting and accepting, they laugh at my jokes and make me laugh. They turn up unexpectedly and drop a little joy when they pass through. Who could ask for more than that?
My geriatric cat is still ticking and seldom vomits up things that move. The pustule on the head of my rastafarian street cat seems to be clearing up and he smells much better. The idiot savant cat and his twin brother, Trouble, are both healthy and beautiful. The back feet of the morbidly obese cat disappear when she is seated. I am grateful for this because it makes me laugh.
The rat has not escaped, and also, rats only live for 2 or 3 years.
I have the luxury to homeschool my kids if they need it and good schools to send them to when they don’t.
I can spend time writing on a regualr basis. It makes me feel good, and it’s mostly free.
When I asked my mom to save all her notes for after she died, she laughed, made a self-deprecating comment, and then quietly started slipping them into the piano bench.
I am naturally thin and not deformed in any obvious way. I can laugh and I do.