I’m thankful for a fun day of volunteering on Monday, and for Martin Luther King, Jr., and his legacy. It was an extra treat to hear snippets of the Inauguration on my way to El Centro de la Raza.
I’m thankful that it warmed up. I took this picture on Wednesday–frost or frozen fog so thick on the trees it looked like snow.
I’m thankful for the writers who help me and for the opportunity to help other writers.
I’m thankful for my poetry group, for their guidance–and for their poems!
I’m thankful for Mom and Nancy–and for the chance to spend time with them. We celebrated Mom’s 81st birthday at Seattle Art Museum and visited her name on the wall honoring women. (My sister and I honored my mother and my grandmother, who studied art for a while.)
Time. It’s my birthday next Friday, so I’ve been thinking extra about time. At the art museum, we saw the work of one painter who died when she was 34. And the work of one who died at 103 (we saw a painting she made in her sixties). And on the radio, I heard about a woman who was turning 100 and publishing her sixth collection of poems.
We are moving forward.
I’m thankful for the afternoon Salon, and for a chance to hear other writers’ writings. And I’m thankful that when my car got persnickety at the end of the freeway ramp, we some how negotiated it into gear and were able to move forward.
May we go forward.
Open the door. Open my heart.