Gratitude, garden variety

I’m thankful for beans. They don’t amount to a hill–but each scarlet runner feels like a small victory, a bit of abundance. (I’d take a picture, but it’s too dark out. I’ve got to get with the pictures.)

I’ve been thankful for my little bits of journaling time in the morning, when I can brain-doodle.

I am thankful for each moment that I’m not worrying, each little letting go.

I’m thankful for my whirlwind week–and I’m generally not a fan of busy-ness. I’m a dust-mote-staring kind of person. But Wednesday, we had our second block party of the summer. I was out of town for the first one, so I was especially glad to gather with my neighbors and share food and stories and wine. Some people drifted off to watch Bill Clinton on TV. I left when dusk grew thick, and Bill Clinton was still on TV. I’m glad I got to see some of his speech. And as much as the Dems’ convention was about looking forward, listening to Bill really took me back to a simpler, more prosperous time.

I’m thankful for the afternoon we poured wine at Vino Verite–many fun conversations in a sunny, cozy, wine-packed shop.

I’m thankful that on Friday we got to see our oldest son race out at the Velodrome–the last track races of the season. We also got to see the little –and I mean tiny–kids ride, and that was a hoot.

And that brings my week’s flurry to Saturday. I’m thankful for a chance to have lunch with my daughter, some time to talk while we sat on the deck at the neighborhood’s new Thai restaurant on yet another sunny almost-autumn day. And I’m thankful for the Floating Bridge Press Great Art party and that fun evening with friends. FBP and I go back to 1995, so it felt especially good to be there and support them. Plus, there was burlesque.

Finally, it’s Sunday dinner tonight and I’m thankful for the chance to get the family together.

And now, it’s off to Monday morning!

Open the door. Open my heart.