I’ve had a hard time settling down to write here lately. Maybe April’s poetry push and May’s flurry of activities wiped me out. I don’t know. Yesterday, I was looking for a card for my sister’s 50th birthday, and I found one that said, “Sometime around the age of 50 you may realize something very important…and then Poof it’s gone and you can’t remember what the Hell you were just thinking about.” Hmm. That’s sounding like me these days.
But the gratitude journal both reminds me to be thankful and nudges me to open up and write down. It adds to the rhythm of my week. And this week I’ve been thankful for:
Any sleep (a theme)
But also the morning birds, and the hummingbird that kept buzzing me yesterday (I finally went inside for a while so he could have the yard to himself)
My son’s interview going well
Tom’s enthusiasm and support for my office project
Progress on the office project
FAMILY & FRIENDS
Tomato starts, and getting them planted, along with some basil
The chance to indulge in this fantasy garden, that from the tomato names I can imagine the tomatoes–which is good, because imaginary tomatoes might be all I end up with
Blue sky, sun
A new month, and every new day
Open the door. Open my heart.