Yes, the week was that full. Some good stuff and some not-so-fun stuff. Let’s start with that:

Last week was a tough time at work–new situations, new challenges and responsibilities. And I often feel like I’m falling down or I can’t catch up. But in my best moments, when I get a chance to step back, I’m able to see how all of this is an opportunity to learn new things–and I’m grateful for that. Keep stepping back…

Now to the good, or more fun, stuff:

I’m thankful for good weather over the weekend and all the people who helped us bottle white wine–nearly 170 cases.

I’m thankful for a fascinating afternoon with the poets yesterday–talk of psychology and playwriting and Brazil (the nation, not the movie). Invigorating.

When I came home, this car was parked in front of my house.

Writing on both sides of the brain? And a cyclist? Who? (I was thankful for the chuckle, and I’d still love a chance to say Hi and talk with the author who’s driving the car.)

And yesterday marked our 14th anniversary in this house. I remember so clearly moving in–out of the old house and into this one in a single day–not packed enough in the morning, many truckloads, our cat Spike  panting as we were stuck in rush hour traffic, racing off to Jamie’s High School Baccalaureate and then coming home to unpack the kitchen and prepare for a graduation and a graduation party the next day (and Spike, having survived the commute, insisted on roaming outside and spent the night stuck in the laurel hedge). Festive times.

Since then, two more children have graduated from high school, and I feel thankful.

Perfectly, kids came for dinner last night and we reveled in a fabulous evening of food and wine and moving-in memories and walking up to the park and climbing up the water tower, complete with a lovely sunset and a lenticular cloud over Mount Rainier. (It looked just like a beret–mais bien sûr!)

I’m thankful for my sister teaching my middle kid to drive–and to parallel park.

Thankful.

Open the door. Open my heart

It’s been a “D” kind of weekend: Daughter in town from college, breakfast with Dad, a dinner party, driving the daughter back up to school. Plus a few downpours (including lightning and hail on Friday night!).

And Tom opened up a Cloudlift Cellars wine-tasting room.

I’m thankful for time spent with family and friends. I’m thankful for grocery shopping (I vehemently dislike shopping–and I’m no good at it–but I appreciate being able to shop for food and then feed each other).

I’m thankful for Gilbert the cat–and I admit that I feel more thankful when he isn’t trying to jump onto the table or the mantle or knock Tom’s reading glasses onto the floor.

I’m thankful for some new directions I’m trying in my sequences–and I’m thankful for all the things I found to do when I got stuck: Laundry, reorganizing my bookshelves, making stuffed mushrooms with baby kale from the garden. The poems didn’t get any closer to completion, but doing things felt better than staring at the screen and feeling hopeless.

I’m thankful for Suzanne Paola’s poem “Seeing It All as Bardo,” and I’m thankful for the many ways to tell a story even while I’m still looking for them.

Yea! Pat Graney won an Arts Innovator award. I’m so glad! Pat is one of my ongoing inspirers. She has followed her vision, wherever it’s taken her, for decades. When I start to second-guess everything I’m writing, I remind myself to “be more Pat Graney.” Now we get to see what she comes up with next!

I’m thankful for this weekend’s bookfest. I wasn’t able to make it–but I hope it was a blast and well-attended. I’m thankful for all the people who continue to work to bring a book festival to this region (this region of readers!).

I’m thankful for NFL Pink. Today, I noticed pink gloves, pink arm bands, pink shoe covers. I thought, “Hmm… it’s October.” I looked it up–and sure enough! Technically, the NFL calls it “A Crucial Catch.” But here’s what they say on their website:

The NFL, its clubs, players and the NFL Players Association are proud to support the fight against breast cancer. Our campaign, “A Crucial Catch”, in partnership with the American Cancer Society, is focused on the importance of annual screenings, especially for women who are 40 and older. Throughout October, NFL games will feature players, coaches and referees wearing pink game apparel, on-field pink ribbon stencils, special game balls and pink coins – all to help raise awareness for this important campaign. All apparel worn at games by players and coaches, along with special game balls and pink coins will be auctioned off at NFL Auction (www.NFL.com/auction), with proceeds benefitting the American Cancer Society and team charities. This is an issue that has directly touched the lives of so many in the NFL family, and we are committed to helping make a difference in breast cancer prevention.

Props to them!

I’m thankful that, during football today, I found some time to work on my manuscript.

I’m thankful that, as part of an unsuccessful quest for paint chips, I was able to stop at the nursery for the second installation of my Italian garden. Out with the basil and in with the kale. I blended up the little basil I had left with some olive oil (and just a twist of salt) and made little snack baggies to freeze for winter. For kale, I couldn’t find any starts, so I’ve planted seeds. An experiment, for sure. If anything even germinates, I’ll be tickled. If I get a few leaves for supper, I’ll be ecstatic.

I’m thankful for one more (teeny) tomato from the garden.

I’m thankful for The Bell Jar. My book club is reading it–and, WOW! I first read it when I was about 20, and it was scary. Reading it now, I’m jaw-dropped and stricken with the writing, the languages, the images. It’s still scary, and it feels more real. Next, I’ve started some of Plath’s short stories and some of her late-1950s poems. Reading my way toward the 1960s poems…

I’m thankful that Senator Patty Murray sent out a request for ideas about how to solve the deficit. I forgot to copy my answer before I sent it (and my answer was really what questions I think our leaders need to be asking, the lens through which I’d like them to look when making their decisions). But maybe tonight I won’t lie awake thinking of what I’d like to ask someone–someone who might listen and answer.

I’m thankful for this quote, posted on The Writer’s Almanac:

“Writing has laws of perspective, of light and shade, just as painting does, or music. If you are born knowing them, fine. If not, learn them. Then rearrange the rules to suit yourself.” –Truman Capote

Finally, I’m thankful (again) for the opportunity to be interviewed for Jillian Mukavetz’s “womens quarterly conversation, profiles in poetics” project.

Open the door. Open my heart.

…plus more gratitude: the video that Premium T. posted.

I’m thankful for winter pansies–still alive, although it’s hardly winter yet.

I’m thankful for our vacation–sun and heat and a whole lot of time to read and write!

I’m thankful for the chance to spend time with friends at the gallery barbecue, and the weather that held just long enough before raining all night long.

I’m thankful for a long conversation yesterday with my daughter and getting to hear about how college is so far (including escapades).

I’m thankful one of the Writer’s Guide videos I made helped a friend with her manuscript.

I’m thankful for Jeannine’s reading today (and glad I was able to get through the traffic). She read many poems from her new book, She Returns to the Floating World, and each was finely crafted (no surprise there). They were intriguing and evocative–and she read them so well. And I was inspired by the learning and research Jeannine put into creating the poems. That also made me happy.

I’m thankful for my poetry group–their poems and their help, and the research assignment they gave me: observe little dogs.

And I’m thankful for the huge amount of work my husband put into cleaning the house (much of it while I was at the poetry reading). The house is so clean now.

Retro thanks

Last week, I wrote a post about gratitude and windfall peaches Tom brought home and the pie I made from them and poetry acceptances and the reading scheduled in NYC. Plus the biggest event: My daughter leaving for college with both excitement and commitment to take advantage of the opportunity (she’d already been watching Yale YouTube videos to learn ahead. Even a little poem I thought of as I listened to the rain. Then the post somehow never published (a blip in the system, a distraction, who knows?). But here’s a picture of the pie.

And here’s the old little poem:

Darker now
and new rain reminds us
of our sadness
we root and water,
but warmth pours
through the vents
to light our skin.

Open the door. Keep the door open. Open my heart.