As we gather, once again, to give thanks around a dried up turkey and gelatinous cranberry sauce, it’s hard not to think of the bounty I am grateful for. Aside from the obvious, big ones – my health, the people who love me despite my cantankerous attitude, a roof over my head and enough food in the fridge – I lingered over the list of smaller blessings that make my life so worth living. I extrapolated just a few, in no particular order of importance, as my brain regurgitated them:
- The printed word – although I will eventually cave in to the allure of an i-Pad, nothing can replace the heady smell of the printed word on paper, so full of promise, like a cup of coffee
- Pigs – because without pigs we wouldn’t have prosciutto
- Ottie who, as I write, has managed to demolish a living room pillow and the floor is now covered in white fluff. Still love him.
- (back from picking up white fluff before Ottie chokes to death) Snuggling under the warm covers while the wind howls outside
- Hippos – I really, really, really like hippos.
- My Kitchen Aid – the practical arm of many a culinary inspiration
- Pompeii – never grew out of the magic since I read Quo Vadis
- War and Peace – I am a sucker for a very very long love story
- Prada – and the credit card to be able to afford it once every couple of years
- My mom’s tortellini
- Driving on PCH – watching out for those pesky police officers
- My reading glasses – they give me an intelligent air
- Netflix – it freed me from having to rely on reality tv for entertainment
- Chocolate in all its forms
- Still fitting into the same jeans I used to wear 20 years ago (despite the chocolate)
- My boundless curiosity which makes living with my cranky self bearable
- Did I mention Ottie already?
Back on Friday