I will eventually tie this all into one big list. Here is a link to the first 14 http://90secondsandvelvet.blogspot.com/2013/11/an-overdue-thankful-list-heres-first-14.html I will combine them as I go, so that you can catch up, if you care to. I would, you know, because they are DEEP and we all need a little depth in our day.
15. I am grateful for my sense of humor, it is often the buoy that keeps me afloat. As a person bound to stay happy and to keep other people happy, a good belly laugh is pretty much my reset button when the grime and sludge of drama and misfortune are weighing me down. I have a wicked ability to lmfao when the you know what hits the ole fan. I think that is a major gift.
Plus, that's what makes my writing funny. Mostly I am laughing at myself. I like to think it endearing and authentic.And necessary for the continuation of me and the avoidance of the loony bin. Because how many people do you know that are reversed magnetized in such a way that THINGS FLY OFF SHELVES when they walk into a nick knack shop? The sound of stuff for sale crashing to the ground is my family's beacon for my whereabouts when we are shopping. If this was your reality, you, too would learn to jump into a simulated acrobatics pose and yell, "TADA" when the shopkeeper raced over to access the expensive and no longer revenue-generating pile of glass surrounding your feet. It's funny, in a tragicomedy kinda way theater folks can appreciate. It lightens the mood because how do you respond to that shit without laughing?
16. I am grateful for coffee. I love coffee. I love the smell of coffee. I love the taste of coffee. I love the sound of coffee. I love the process of making a French press full of coffee. I love talking over coffee. I love cookies with my coffee. I love reading over coffee. I love the places where coffee is grown. And I think coffee loves me because when I fill my giant "Sunday mug" full of coffee and sip the deliciousness curled up with my book I feel like I'm ingesting magic, and that's got to be some kind of love.
17. I am grateful for travel. Seeing the world, planning a trip, brushing up on my language skills, studying the culture of a place, these are the things that get me through those New England winter blues. I start thinking warm the first time I have to push that button on the thermostat, I plan through out the holidays, with the fam, who are typically my voyage mates and I scramble to get my taxes done as close to the beginning of February as possible because I AM COUNTING ON UNCLE SAM to reciprocate from being gauged all year long in the form of a ticket to St Somewhere. I overpay faithfully, and hopefully, because taxes are my Christmas club for the gift of sand and sun and probably keep me from becoming the Grinch himself in the endless months of WICKED FRIGGIN COLD weather here on the North Shore where "ocean effect" equals - "sleety mess". Don't you be messin' with my palm tree. I'm clinging to it's phantom branches all winter long...
18. I am grateful for my community. This is a beautiful, warm, giving, nice, helpful, supportive, progressive, cultured, cool, beautiful, outdoorsy, open spaced, historical gem of a suburb we live in and although I RAN FAR AND WIDE when I was a TEENAGER WHO KNOWS EVERYTHING I came back here for a spell, met a boy I'd always known and I MARRIED HIM. And then we bolted again, but only for a spell because WE HAD A BABY and I wigged out to get home. Now we beach comb and hike and play tennis and have dinner with the fam and go to Art Haven and Sawyer Free Library and the Cape Ann YMCA and Ravenswood and 100000 other awesome-town places we would TOTALLY MISS if we didn't submit to the magnet that draws us all back here eventually. And now, I"M NEVER LEAVING. (excuse the shouting. I feel very strongly about all this. PS I went to a Rotary Club meeting today, so I feel even more strongly about HOW AWESOME IT IS HERE).
19. I am grateful for puppies. We adopted Maggie Mae this fall after losing our 13 year old Rottweiler Lab Mix, Hunter in June. I cried for a solid 3 months. I cry often still. He was my little dude and his death sucked. A lot. And it hurt. A lot. But Maggie is a bugger of a little smarty pants Lab Border Collie genius who is so different from him (um, she's smart, he was sweet but to quote my dad, "never going to save Timmy from the well"), and she is a wicked snuggle bug and a lady. And she lays in my lap while I write and post and fold laundry which is terribly inconvenient but so very nice.