Gratitudinous Thoughts

Grateful for a short but deep nap, then grateful for a simple but rewarding lunch -- cheddar cheese and a quality tomato soup, This came after a long and stressful night accompanying my wife to the ER. The trip entailed six hours of stressful waiting and unavoidable people-watching for me. Fortunately (the third gratitude here) my wife, who was too miserable and tired to do other than doze fitfully against my shoulder, was finally evaluated and treated, and given appropriate meds. I should add that I'm also grateful we have access to and can afford functional, albeit sometimes frustrating, first-class medical care.

 

Bright sun sparkling over crisp snow on a chilly day. The way a Wisconsin winter should be. A snowblower that works. And a home-cooked (not by me) breakfast of eggs over-easy with toast, potatoes, and coffee. Couple that with a trip to the grocery store where we could afford everything we needed. All too easy to take for granted in this tumultuous world.

 

Gotta dig deep today, for some reason. Grateful for the true friends I have found over the years, both those I have kept (extra-grateful) and those whose paths have diverged from my own. Grateful for the sun and moon and stars. Grateful for the mysterious gift of life, in all its manifestations, pleasant and unpleasant, rewarding and challenging. Somehow, I believe, it will all make sense in the end -- or I will arrive at a place where sense and nonsense converge.

 

Grateful to be snug and warm on a winter's day. For a nourishing breakfast. And for a lovebird perched lovingly on my shoulder. For family and friends near and far.

 

A minor Christmas miracle. Last evening I heard some tentative notes of Jingle Bells being worked out on an old xylophone that had lay silent for years -- bought for him but abandoned, gathering dust. I'd long meant to sell it, because only he and his sister play music. She's grown and gone, he's long since retreated into his own world.

He came looking for me and said, smiling, "I played 'Jingle Bells.'" I smiled back. "I know." He had me open the piano, also silent for years, and worked it out on there. Then he stopped and went back to his private life of books and hard facts. But for those brief moments I was reminded of the promise and hope and life behind that guarded wall behind which he spends most of his time. Reminded that he has music in his soul.

Thanks for that.

 

Got up around 11 last night, having decided an hour earlier that staying up till midnight was of no matter, and walked through the clean and warm house, no mansion but adequate, got a glass of cold clean water and returned to bed. Nothing special there, except for the people in refugee camps and such. How blessed I am. thanks.

Secondary blessing: my wife directs a state newborn screening lab, wherein newborn infant blood (from the heel-sticks at birth) are analyzed for genetic conditions. A baby was born yesterday to parents who are both carriers for a rare but serious, potentially life--threatening and lifelong condition, meaning that the baby had a one-in-four chance of having the condition. The blood sample was driven several hours to the lab, and it turned out that the baby was also a carrier, but not suffering from the condition. Upon hearing the news the father said, simply, "we are blessed."

 

I live in a flat not-quite-in-the-City-but-close-enough, so while it's fairly easy to travel to work, we also get the noise (especially early-morning noise) and the dust of the City.

All that is day-to-day, but there are two times a year on which that noise is amplified: a weekend in April, when the motorheads of the world seem to descend on a park not far from me to watch a gratuitously unnecessary car race, and of course, New Year's Eve.

Having witnessed the noise of the previous NYEs, I was dreading this one (especially as my neck pain was particularly painful). But, aside from one firecracker at 11:15pm, and half-a-dozen more at one minute past midnight, nothing else disturbed the much-needed rest.

I've no idea whether to feel blessed or slightly disappointed. Whichever it is, I only hope it continues.

 

Grateful for a humble dinner of chorizo, red beans, and rice. Settling down for the evening in my smallish but secure and well-heated house, safe against sub-freezing cold (see how I avoided the Fahrenheit/Celsius issue?). And grateful for the friends I have made in visits to the YMCA, oldsters sitting around drinking coffee whilst talking sports and politics, though both are kind of painful these days, with the Packers flareout in the playoffs and the impending coronation. But overall, still grateful.

 

You didn't pollute the thread. I have an ongoing sense of gratitude for Rodgers' being gone. and share your delight in his professional demise. And while you have your Jets' debacle to warm the cockles of your heart, I have the annual Bears' parade of ineptitude.

 

I'm going back to the basics for gratitude: cold fresh water whenever I want it, a reliable furnace on cold February nights, a warm bed and a full refrigerator (and the resources to re-stock it); as well as friends and family, places to go and a means to get there. To seriously demand anything more in this tumultuous world strikes me as being a bit greedy.

 

Grateful for snow. Six or so inches, fine powdery stuff. Like it's s'posed to be. Everything outside is white, or edged with white. And for my old Toro snowblower. Twenty minutes to clearing the driveway and sidewalk. I used to enjoy shoveling snow before dawn, outside in the cold and silent darkness, but now I like blasting the stuff away after sunup. Grateful for my insulated coveralls and face-mask stocking hat. Because it's nice to be warm. And for a toasty kitchen with hot coffee.

In fewer years than I want to admit, I'll be hiring someone to do it, or be in an apartment or condo with the service provided. I don't envision myself moving somewhere snow-less; having spent my life in the four seasons, I have no desire for any of that.

If I'm still here at all.

 

I've got an Ariens. I used to do the snowblowing, but one of my nephews comes to do it for me now. He just shows up without being asked. So, I'm grateful for him.

We haven't had a lot of snow so far this winter, but they are forecasting about 25 cm (10 inches) on the weekend.

Same here. I like the chilly air, as long as it is not too cold. It's hovering around the freezing mark today, and I find being out in it so invigorating.

 

I am grateful for chocolate milk. It's so good.