I am grateful that I am still around, as are my husband, Mom & Dad, three sisters and brother, my sisters’ children, their spouses, children and the evolving relationships I cherish with each of them. I am grateful G is home from service in the Marines, and trust he will win his personal wars with the help of his German Shepherd, Major, at his side like the good brother he is. My home, my cats, food three times a day (or more), my town, the Farmer’s Market in summer, two cars that still run, clothes on my back, hair on my head, my family of friends in various stages of coming and going.
Health, laughter, books, insight, notebooks, shoes, shampoo, kind co-workers, dark chocolate, just enough money, watches, soft socks, smooth-writing pens, hospital emergency rooms, brakes, air conditioning in the summer, heat in the winter. Potential. Hope. An Ipod with over 5000 songs with room for more, buttercream, cell phones, the sharp scent of ozone before a storm, geese calling from their “V,” friends who tell you the truth.
Electricity, otters, automatic coffee pots, lace tablecloths, airplanes, rain, Xanax, trees, raccoons, bears and flying squirrels. Coming home at the end of the day, newspapers in my driveway, pancakes with real Vermont fancy maple syrup. Catherine, morning skies, moonlight stroking my sleeping husband, heated birdbaths, warblers, intuition, prayer, shoes to walk miles in. Telephones. Dirt. Birdseed. Blue Jays picking peanuts off the deck railing, deck chairs, music, the warm clove aroma of mulled wine.
Earthworms, quiet afternoons, scented candles, hard boiled eggs, no-kill animal shelters and the people who work in them, pizza with extra cheese, solitude, naps, friends who understand pain, birds, the Grand Canyon, wild horses, bubble baths, sparkly rings, blank pages, poetry, Mary Oliver. Dishwashers, growing up a girl, roses, periwinkle. A 30 year friendship lost and now found.
Kind veterinarians, walks in the woods, recipes, corduroy, fingernails, medicine, cat food, chants, indoor plumbing, Willie Nelson, clothes dryers, cross stitch patterns, green, restaurant dinners, lemons, hummingbirds, Elk lake, blogs. Loons.
Water, duct tape, wireless routers, flush toilets, soap, icicles, forsythia. Swingline staplers, batteries, fingers, calendars, keyboards, love, switches, picture frames, flashlights, bookends, E. B. White. Answering machines, gas stations, orange juice, chocolate chips, apricots. Angels. Stories with happy endings, Belize, Dr. Cappitelli, flour, antivirus software, highlighters, harmony. Calligraphy, combs, toothpaste, wild bunnies in the back yard. The back yard. Wolves.
Pencils, bees, pansies, polka dots, pillows, zebras, salad, well-behaved children, convertibles, magazines. Sleeping kittens, fireflies, peanut butter, good clergy, email, drumming woodpeckers in March, red, American flags, dragons, acorns, light bulbs, soap, jewelry boxes, ponies, walking sticks, Elizabeth, dragonflies, guitars, tomorrow, cat litter, mirrors, blueberries, blinking Christmas reindeer, sequins, dictionaries, windy days, fleece blankets, wet tree bark, Fridays.
Purple, unicorns, rakes, beginnings, grace, bats, stars, computers, bookends, hosta, garbage cans, skin, new tires, sunglasses, computer glasses, binoculars, birding scope, Baltimore Orioles, birding days, screech owl nights, duplicate car keys, paved roads, caller ID, friends who don’t let you go.
The list never ends. AMEN.