Giving Thanks, Day 17390

Well, shucks, I got off-track with my blogging earlier this month. I've kept up a steady pace with my thanks-giving, I just haven't documented my adventures here. Too bad. But kudos to all my friends who have faithfully shared their own warm November fuzzies on Facebook and elsewhere. I've wondered, Should I do penance? Should I backtrack, do make-up homework? But nah. The sweetest thing I can think to do is to continue spending some daily gratitude, wherever I find myself, till I spend my thankful pockets empty. But it doesn't work like that, does it? Gratitude pockets are magic and never come up short. The more you spend, the more you find to spend when you dig down deep. 

Tomorrow's Thanksgiving. So is today, and every day. I love my life, and I'm glad it's mine, come what may.

Here's a little gift from me to start the holidays out right, a song I've loved since I was small. Enjoy it. Enjoy your feasting tomorrow and an endless spending of gratitude.

Giving Thanks, Day 10

One of my soul friends lost her sister today, unexpectedly. My heart is weeping with hers.

And yet, death is no victor. That's more than a comfort. It's an endless mercy.

I'm thankful for what I know.

Giving Thanks, Day 9

Parking the car in the sun, eating J Dawgs, and listening to John Cage & Lou Harrison with Rob. That's a feast.

Giving Thanks, Day 8

Gratitude du jour:

• the joy of movement, esp. walking fast on a crisp afternoon
• messages from faraway friends
• sweet irony: Last night a friendly neighbor sent over an ENORMOUS plate of gooey black magic box brownies, the kind that can turn deadly if you overindulge. After Rob and I cautiously sampled them, we decided we were in danger, so I loaded up the rest to share with a family I met with today. They were excited, and we were relieved. Hey, no emergency room trips for us! On my way home I received a text from a different neighbor friend, telling me she'd just left brownies on my porch and giving me full disclosure about her ingredients list, all healthy in the extreme. Those we finished off. 
• fresh flowers in the house (love gifts)

Giving Thanks, Day 7

Three beautiful things:

1. computers
2. bagless vacuums
3. earplugs

 See you tomorrow.

Giving Thanks, Day 6

Most of what I'm thankful for today goes beyond my words, but here are some of the beautiful parts I know how to say in English:

•prayer
•perspective
•wool, wool, wool, and wool tweed
•terrific teaching resources
•fasting
•renewal
•people who say yes because they want to
•people who aren't hesitant to express affection
•sacrament
•a day of worship and service
•when a community becomes like a family
•sincere and purposeful self-disclosure
•sharing spiritual experiences
•the little girl who snorted super loudly behind me in church when everybody else said, "Amen"
•good hearts
•good intentions (that even occasionally produce good results)
•honesty
•the constant need for change
•forgiveness
•teaching
•learning
•listening before speaking, sometimes without speaking
•dependability
•letting go of the need to be perfect
•introducing a roomful of women to our Good Riddance tradition with a mini-bonfire
•making healthy commitments
•the thrill of discovering something true
•giving openly in a new friendship
•intuition
•inspiration
•laughter
•responsibility
•delegation
•cooperation
•big plans
•little plans
•kindnesses, anonymous and not
•respect
•patience
•compassion
•Rob's salad
•in-laws
•watching a friend dress to impress a girl and be on his best behavior during our family dinner
•thinking I had lost this draft and then finding it

Giving Thanks, Day 5

I'm not a fan of Daylight Savings Time, but I admit there is one weekend of every year when I feel thankful for it, and this one's it. Hurray for turning back the clock for an extra (potential) hour of sleep. I'm so tired this week that last night in my dream I was apologizing for being too sleep-deprived to think straight. Ugh. Tomorrow I teach in Relief Society, so I'm glad for the added rest and recup time. I'm about to catch the early train, instead of waiting till the wee hours (again, again, again). Golden slumbers to all—

Giving Thanks, Day 4

Here's something I'm thankful for—people with humor, smarts, integrity, and imagination. I'm especially in awe of the ones who work hard to contribute something worthwhile to the world, and who encourage other people to bravely do the same.

Example: Filmmaker Werner Herzog. Over three decades ago he promised to eat his shoe if a young green colleague, Errol Morris, would finish making his first documentary, Gates of Heaven, and have it screened in a public theater. Morris kept his end of the bargain, so Herzog showed up as a guest speaker for that first Berkeley screening and he ate one of his slow-cooked shoes on stage. Luckily for us, another filmmaker, Les Blank, captured that moment and much of Herzog's philosophy and vision in his 1980 documentary, Werner Herzog Eats His Shoe. If you've got twenty minutes to spare, here's that film for you to watch, followed by a funny two-minute clip from Gates of Heaven (which, by the way, is one of my favorite documentaries of all time—I highly recommend it).

Werner Herzog Eats His Shoe by bakiniz

But getting back to funny, intelligent, creative people of conscience, I am blessed to know and love quite a few, and this evening I got to spend time with a bunch of them, and for that I'm really really grateful.  Plus, good pizza.

Giving Thanks, Day 3

So, ha ha, I posted this on Facebook for Halloween:

This image may originate here. (So much for attribution.)

Early this morning, after Rob got up but before the sun and I did, I was lying in bed, minding my own sleepy business, and something with a lot of legs RAN ACROSS MY FACE. Ear to ear, straight over my cheekbones. I am a light sleeper, even when I'm dreaming, so in a nanosecond I was bolt upright and freaking out, shaking my head and slapping myself around to make sure that spider was OFFOFFOFF! Talk about an adrenaline rush. I sat there in the dark, my heart pounding. I did not, did not dream that! I pictured this spider running for his life, away from the big flailing thing he'd just mistakenly used as a highway. But no. Suddenly, I felt a tickle on the back of my shoulder and this time I stopped, dropped, and rolled like I was on fire. Good thing Rob was up already or I'd have probably knocked him out of bed by accident. I was taking no chances. A few years ago I got fanged by one of those pale green house spiders with the googly brown eyes that Rob used to tell me don't bite, and now, well, you know what they say... I'm twice shy. Exponentially shy. I can't stand spiders in the house. We are not amused.

After that, no more tickles, no more feet. I was able to catch a few more zzzzs (a testament to how much sleep I've lost lately rather than to how courageous I am). But when I woke up (after the sun) this is what I found:

Aieeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!

scattered body parts!

I am still creeped out, many hours later. Augh! It's going to be a little tough to sleep tonight.


BUT. Here's my big gratitude for the day: I won that battle. No googly-eyed spider bites for me today. And I'm sure his ancestors in spider heaven welcomed him home with many many open arms. Thankful!


Other things that didn't bite today:

• giving away the rest of the Mexican chocolate brownies
• getting to see an old friend, somebody I love like family, and meet her new baby, Niles (love you, Jamie, and it was so good to see you and Addie and the baby chunk and your sweet gram)
  
• helping my in-laws' neurotic cat with her worried peevish old lady cat thoughts (no, really)
  
• watching Neil Thornock drive away with a giant accordion loaded into his fabulous cargo bike
  
• perfect timing: at the very moment I decided I needed to find somebody with a truck to help me move a couch to Lu's house, I looked out the window and spotted the bishop, home early, and he and his truck and one of his landscaping worker bees helped me deliver Big Pink in five minutes, round trip
• new space opened up in the living room
• shuffling pictures on the walls
  
• the rest of the Harry Potters, on loan from my cuz
• Gary bringing me a gift he knows I'll appreciate: a tragic handwritten poem he found while deep cleaning his basement—it was hidden behind some duct work (sad subject matter, but it's great to have a friend who'll think to give me something like this)
• Rob's glee at having a P.A. system to play with
• Brian's songs with a little more reverb
• sweaters from the UK
• digging out the Italian book of Hanon Virtuoso-Pianist exercises and beginning to break in my fingers again (ow)
• vegetables
• praying with perspective
• looking forward to tomorrow
• my pumpkin and his Jack-o-lantern:

Giving Thanks, Day 2

Another list.

• a new recipe for a Dutch baby (apple)
• sitting in the sun by the lake and writing the opening of a new story
• hot water (Mary, you are so, so right!)
• moving furniture
• laying plans to pass on Big Pink to a friend who has the crappiest couch in town
• Simple Green + microfiber cloths
• listening to an enlightening interview with Dr. John Gray
• wearing Rob's sweater
• not watching Kung Fu Panda
• being raised by people who loved to give
• Mozart's Requiem Mass in D Minor
• finally locating a sweet spot in the house where we can play records on the German Telefunken without our steps causing the needle to skip across the vinyl
• take-out bean and cheese pupusas + that magical pickled cabbage-jalapeño stuff
• KUER's nighttime jazz
• swapping love letters
• more Mexican chocolate brownies
• cold, clean night air
• feeling well enough to attend teacher training
• being taught a new way to deepen gratitude: Each day, write down three things you're thankful for... and then ask yourself, "Why/how did they happen?" 

Thirty Days of Thanksgiving

When I woke up this morning, it was unmistakably November. The weather was grey and wet and blowy, as if it just had to distinguish itself from October. It's funny how often this kind of big announcement seems to come on the first day of month anymore.

But despite its dismal halloo, I am committed to loving November. It's good, this advent of Thanksgiving. I think I'll join the ranks of bloggers who'll spend the month pouring out some gratitude and celebrating the cup that runs over with blessings.

Simple tonight—an attempt at a list, since I'm not feeling my best today (I'm looking at you, moon), but nevertheless a decent start. I'm thankful for:

• a near-perfect breakfast smoothie
• Ibuprofen (always and forever, always and forever)
• Mirjam's hot water bottle
• horizontalilty + cushions + gravity
• the digital projector we're babysitting for the next few weeks + a white wall + decent speakers
• Napoleon Dynamite for bazillionth time
• baked winter squash
• Mexican chocolate brownies
• a kind housemate, husband, and friend (rolled into one)
• lonely train whistles
• remote control
• answering machine
• Debby showing up with a rented DVD (Thor), fried potatoes, and fresh pineapple
• a clean bathroom
• quiet
• a working furnace
• learning that friends in dire straits are being helped and supported
• understanding that it's not the end of the world to lose a day to illness
• one of my new blog ideas becoming a reality
• sharing good things
• chasing after change (a right healthy sport)
• evening chapter of The Hobbit