A Good Man

There’s a story my mom loves to bring out every once. It’s one of those stories that, when you’re in high school or college, you simply cringe in embarrassment but as life goes on you enjoy the laugh and then draw out one of your own. I don’t actually remember ALL the details, I just recall that I was outside playing with the hose and, since we were in Kansas City, I was younger than four years. I’m not sure if I wasn’t supposed to be playing with it, or was simply being cautioned, but I spun around with it in my hand when my father’s voice came to me regarding the water and I ended up spraying him thoroughly. It was an innocent, childhood mistake – I was turning towards his voice and the water in the hose in my hand came with me. Unfortunately he had just arrived home from work and was dressed in one of his business suits and I had a full spraying stream going as I whirled to greet him. Dark suit ... white pressed shirt ... dark tie ... wing tip shoes ... soaked.

Yep. Laughter is had on that one. Now.

My poor Daddy.

The good Lord blessed him with an extraordinary amount of patience, for which I am abundantly grateful.

Although I know he will be embarrassed and will most likely tell my mother that I “shouldn’t have”, I’m gonna tell a little bit about the type of man I call Father.

My dad is hamburgers & steaks grilled just right … driving the boat around “just one more” cove before heading back … calm voice when teaching to drive a car … Saturday late night movies with Clint Eastwood, Lee Marvin, Lee Van Cleef, or maybe just The Duke … pancakes and maple syrup vying with a simple box of donuts for being the best breakfast ever … standing outside on the front step of Grandma’s trailer watching a tornado pass by … saving a small girl from a bunch of loose pigs (not the small cute kind) … holding a little girl up on his shoulders to see the Macy’s parade … cheering or groaning for his Dallas Cowboys … playing Santa for a company children’s party … mowing the yard … playing in the pool … sitting at the counter and letting me tease & pick on him … finishing a task begun – no matter how detailed or time consuming.

Most of all, my daddy is wrapping me in a huge hug when I hurt, am sad, just arrived for a visit, fixing to leave after a visit, or just any other reason he can think of ... being married to, and loving, one woman for 53 years … reading Luke Chapter 2 before bedtime on Christmas Eve … praying so fully before each meal at the table … spending each week studying/preparing his Sunday School lesson … standing tall and proud as he joins the other deacons in serving the Lord’s Supper … a Godly man, the head of our household, following Joshua 24:15.

Today, on this special day when we honor our Fathers, I don’t get to physically be with my Daddy – to hug him and tell him how much I love and adore him, how he is the tape measure I use when looking at men and relationships, how much he is admired, how much I miss being with him on his special day.

That is why I wanted to just take a minute and tell you a bit about the man I call Father.

Happy Father’s Day, Daddy! I love you!

Did You Catch It Before You Blinked?

I've been advised that I've been remiss in writing.

And I have.

November was one of those weird months that simply sapped the writing right out of me. However, I'd like to pretend for a moment that it is still that eleventh month of the year, if you don't mind. Sometimes I feel it gets neglected and trampled over in our rush to get from the end of summer/beginning of school (September) and exhaulting in the beauty of autumn with colorful leaves & fat pumpkins (October) to the crisp joy of Christmas (December) and the opportunity to begin anew (January).

There's something about November. It always seems to go by so fast. With 30 days, it's not the shortest month of the year, but unlike April, June, & September, I always have such plans for a leisurely month of November and, in the end, I'm scrambling to figure out where the time went.

So I'd like to spend a few moments discussing this favorite month of mine. There's no real rhyme or reason here, just some thoughts that my brain keeps making me write down on napkins and scraps of paper, an indication that I was supposed to be actually writing and not avoiding it claiming writer's block. *grins*

In the realm of holidays often overlooked, November somehow got blessed with two of them. While Memorial Day & Labor Day get all the glory of beginning and ending summer, not to mention Independence Day with it's summertime fireworks, tucked into the fall month of November is Veteran's Day. Yes, the holiday gets its share of speeches and some areas even give it a parade, but for the most part it tends to slip on by as merely a day that government employees, and some businesses, have off. Yet, like Mother's Day and Father's Day, this holiday is a time for us to honor those who have served in our armed forces, who by the very act of signing up - either as enlisted or drafted - performed a sacred duty to protect our country and all of it's citizens. Wow. Say what you will about the various wars or police actions or whatever you'd like to call them, the men and women who served during those times of uncertainty, as well as those who served inbetween during times of peace, deserve our whole-hearted respect and appreciation. My dad served, as did two of my uncles. Between the three, our family covered three branches - Army, Navy & Marines. I'm always proud of my dad, but I have to admit, when we're out either at a show or a service and they call upon our veterans to stand, there is a slight catch in my throat and a mist to my eye for knowing that my father was one of those ready to do his duty. Veteran's Day comes in November, not a good month for picnics or gatherings for fireworks, so it has to stand on it's own merits. Quiet respect for those who have simply done what needed to be done. I was lucky. All three of my veterans came home. Not all of them did.

Now I know that TECHNICALLY Thanksgiving doesn't get overlooked. However, it doesn't really get to stand on it's own two legs (or drumsticks, as the case may be) either. The last Thursday of the next to the last month of the year, Thanksgiving seems to be more and more the herald of the Christmas season and less and less the day to gather with family and friends, to count our blessings, to give thanks for this new world the pilgrims ventured towards with their meager belongings and hearts filled with hopes and prayers for the freedom to worship as they chose.

Huh.

Hmm.

Kinda interesting that the holiday that came about as a way of honoring those who bravely ventured to a new continent in order to gain religious freedom and takes place in the month prior to the month in which Christians celebrate the birth of Jesus has been subtley overshadowed by the commercialism of shopping, of preparing the lists for black Friday's gift buying and giving, of filling calendars with lavish dinners entertained by Santas. Is it me or does it seem that the meaning of Thanksgiving has been taken away, much as prayer has been taken away from our children's schools?

I found rather appalling the news reports of people who spent the entire day of Thanksgiving camped out in front of storefronts, rather than with family and friends giving thanks for the blessings that were theirs.

I may not enjoy football, but I was with my family ... my mother, my father, my brother, his lady & my two nieces ... and that alone made my heart give thanks as my house was filled with warmth, love, and happiness. Particularly after their football team won. *grins*

Yep, November holds a couple of holidays that I find particularly meaningful. It is also a life changing month in that it holds Election Day Tuesday. Strikes me as intriguing that the month that includes the time for us to give thanks for the bounty of our great nation also brings us the day where we, as citizens, are also allowed to practice the freedom to chose the leader of our city, our state, our nation. Over the years we've had some great leaders, as well as some not so great, but the one constant in all the changing is our right to be the ones to choose.

Of course, November also is a personal favorite, just from some of the anniversaries of memories it holds. It is the month I began working for a delightful young couple as the nanny to their only daughter *mumblemumble* years ago, it is the month that I purchased my very first car all by myself (okay, with a little haggling help from a friend, but the money was all mine!), it was the night before Thanksgiving I moved into my little house 12 years ago, and then there was the Backroads Roadtrip of 2008 that led to a fast, fun filled weekend in Chicago last year.

November is more than just the next to the last month of the year. It's more than just the month before Christmas. It's a blustery autumn month filled with times of rememberance, family, and blessings. A month that we should all give thanks for our leaders, are protectors, our families. Maybe if we spent a bit more time doing that than in preparing our camping gear so that we can spend the night in front of store doors, we might all come away a bit richer.

One last thing ... there's a house in my neighborhood I've previously mentioned. It always amazes me. The older couple who live there keep their yard filled with the huge air blown creations for the various holidays. They have a bear with a heart, they have a leprechan with a pot of gold, they have a giant bunny. They have all types of creatures inhabiting their yards for the various holidays. Halloween decorations this year began, I kid you not, on August 31st and as the month of September waned into October, the yard simply became more and more filled. Then on November 1st, the goblins and ghouls disappeared and drivers by were greeted by a turkey. Unfortunately, the weekend before Thanksgiving, so arrived the Christmas blowups. November was not over, the day of Thanksgiving had yet to dawn, yet Tom the Turkey had been completely overwhelmed.

Can you see the cute turkey? Much like Veterans Day, Thanksgiving and even the month of November, if you blink, you might not catch something simple but rather special.

It's Thursday ... It Must Be Thanksgiving

Despite the fact that holiday lights are twinkling in the shopping center parking lot and our neighborhood holiday junkie has filled their yard with snowmen, santas, and all manner of festive decorations, it is not yet Christmas time!

I've said it before and I'll say it again ... after we eat the trick or treat candy and before we break out the stockings and the red and green M&Ms, there's a little holiday that needs some recognition.

In the scheme of things, it's not a big holiday. It's not a world wide presence It's a simple American holiday that is about more than football and eating ourselves into turkey oblivion. It's a day set aside to give thanks ... as did those pilgrims years ago for the blessings received.

All those years ago, the English settlers gave thanks for the natives that befriended them and the harvest of crops after a disasterous winter.

While I don't have a harvest of crops, I do have some awesome friends and a harvest of blessings for which I would like to take this day, before the parades begin, the cooking commences, and the football gets kicked, or thrown, or tackled or something like that.

Blessing of Family -
I give thanks each day for the family I was lucky enough to be born into. The saying goes that you can't pick your family and this is true. Therefore it is a blessing to have parents who unconditionally love me, listen to me, giving guidance yet allowing me to make my final decisions for good or for ill. It is a blessing to have a brother who may be far away in distance but is close in time of need, to care and challenge and remind me always I am not alone in this world. It is a blessing to have nieces who are growing beautiful and independent, reminders of our youth of yesterday and our hope for tomorrow. Family is truly important, and I am so incredibly grateful for mine. This year we cannot all be together physically, and while this is a momentary sorrow, I know that there are many who have lost family members over this year. Therefore I take my blessing that we shall celebrate this holiday together in our hearts and look forward to the time we may be together physically again.

Blessings of Girlies -
I give thanks each day for the three girlies who daily bring joy and love to my heart and light to my life. Each one unique and each one so special that words simply fail.

Blessings of Friends -
I give thanks each day for the friends in my life, both new and old ... both far and near. The remainder of the family saying states that you can pick your friends. I'm not always sure who has picked who, however I can state wholeheartedly that I have been truly blessed with an abundance of friends that are supportive, comforting, crazy, and joyous. I give thanks for each and every individual one.

Blessing of Freedom -
I give thanks each day for the freedom I enjoy in this grand country of ours. From the President who leads us to the troops who defend us to local law enforcement officials who protect us, I am blessed to live in this country where opportunity has been and is still available for those who seek it, where I am afforded the right to worship as I choose and voice my opinions in agreement or disagreement without fear of retaliation. It's not perfect but it's mine and I am thankful for the freedom to live in it.

Blessing of Health & Home -
I give thanks each day for the roof over my head. I give thanks for an employer that provides the opportunity earn the living that pays for the roof, as well as the amenities that go with it - such as electricity, water ... internet connection. *grins* I give thanks for the health I have and the doctor that is there when I'm not feeling quite right.

Blessing of Being Me -
I give thanks each day for the opportunity to place my feet upon the floor, look into the mirror, greet the day and simply be me. For the opportunity to enjoy my tea in the morning, to cuddle my nursery babies, to be able to sit and write seriously or nonsensical, to relax and read, to travel or stay home, to simply be me - whether laughing or crying.

And ... since it's Thursday ...
I give thanks for the television show that is unique in that through it I have found friends and with them created an imaginary Sanitarium that brings discussion and laughter, sparking a passion for writing, and learned that though the world may be huge, when given something in common it doesn't matter whether you live in the same city or on separate continents to be able to strike up a conversation that leads to more than just television. I give thanks for the creative team of writers, directors, actors, and crew that bring us the show Supernatural.

Blessings come. They are there whenever and where ever we need or want them - big or small - if we simply take the time to see them. On this day that is set aside, between the candy and the glitter, to give thanks ... I challenge you to look around and see the blessings in your life.

And give thanks for them.

The Special Ingredient

I've been thinking about my grandparents this weekend. I do that on occasion, such as at dinnertime when I use the bowls that came from my Grandma's own kitchen, mismatched but full of memories of family meals and good cooking. One memory always links to another and gives me brief moments of nostalgia. This weekend, it's not Grandma though ... it's my mom's mom, the one I called Nanny, because this weekend I've given in to a craving I had and I am making oatmeal raisin cookies, using my Nanny's recipe.

Growing up, my grandparents (either set) didn't live in the same city as we did, no matter how many times we moved. Yet, each year, time was spent with them at our house and us at their house. No, I didn't get to see them every day, but that is what made visiting with them special. Each visit like Christmas - filled with presents, good food, and lots of love. I was lucky. My grandparents didn't have to become second parents to me and my little brother like so many have had to step in and do so today. Instead, we were able to enjoy our time with them as we should - to be spoiled and then returned to our parents. Atleast that was the theory.

For me, my Nanny's raisin cookies were a staple. Even better than chocolate chip ... and I have had my love affair with the chip of chocolate for *mumblemumble* years, so this isn't just a changing declaration. When Nanny and Papa would come to our house for a visit, there would always be a box of oatmeal cookies that made the trip with them. When we would visit their house, there would always be plenty of cookies while we were there - but still enough to take a box home with us. The perfect cookie in my childhood, they were always soft inside, with that sweet goodness provided from plump & juicy raisins.

As I grew older and moved off on my own, I would often try making them but they never seemed to be quite right. They were too crisp. The raisins were chewy. They dried out too easily. They just never seemed to taste like my Nanny's cookies. I finally dispaired, thinking that it must have been from my Nanny licking her fingers and putting them in the batter. But that so wasn't right because that is something that my Nanny would NEVER have done ... got my fingers smacked enough to know that to be fact! Still I was puzzled ... what was the secret??

There ended up being a couple of them, but the one that struck me the most was not a complicated step at all. It wasn't a technique or a timing ... it was simply a step of proven love. You see, my Nanny always made the cookies ahead of time and froze them in her big old deep freezer. Taken fresh, wrapped with wax paper and put into boxes or big old coffee cans, they were frozen until the trip was made to visit our house or our arrival on their doorstep. That time in the freezer, waiting, did something to those cookies and made them seem even better - making them even softer and tastier than could ever be fresh out of the oven. The step of love meant that these cookies were being prepared special, as a treat for whenever the time would be for us to be together. They weren't thrown together at the last minute. They were thoughtfully baked ahead of time ... and then frozen ... waiting for that moment to share the love of being together with the people that meant the most.

I'm baking these cookies this weekend and while I'm sharing (and munching on) a few right now ... the majority are being nestled between sheets of wax paper and placed in a box in my own deep freezer to be shared in a month or so with those that I love. No ... I'm not a grandmother, but there are people who mean the world to me ... and when I share my Nanny's oatmeal raisin cookies - it will be with them.

Observations From A Trip Up The Road

Baby and I took another road trip last week. It was just a quickie ... up one morning early and back the next afternoon. So ... of course ... I had to make some observations and what fun would observations be, unless they are shared?

Now ... this trip, I must admit, was a true test of how much Baby and I have bonded. It was a true test of how well I've learned to handle her and how well she is able to protect me. You see, this trip was taken during a flooding thunderstorm of blinding rain, ear-shattering thunder and sky-splitting lightning. Traveling down the 75 mph turnpike at a scary 35 mph, it was definitely a test of Baby's tire traction and my nerves for it was note exactly optimum traveling weather.

My plan was to begin the trip at 4 am, however the meteorologist on my television was telling me about the possible twisters in the area and the hail using my house as a drum was the size of a hen egg.

I decided it would be best to wait.

Instead, my trip began at 6 am. It probably should have waited another hour, but I was already late and antsy to get to my destination. My first clue should have been the fact that getting out of my neighborhood included going through "puddles" that completely covered the street from side to side and were actually deep enough to hide part of the curb on each side. Once out on the main streets, the going was a bit easier as long as I managed to stay on the inside lanes and away from the sides. With windshield wipers going non-stop and rain beating a staccato beat on the sunroof, I made it to the turnpike entrance.

Did I mention that the toll booth doesn't have a covering? Yes ... it's always fun to roll down a window to face the elements of wind and rain in order to throw .50 cents to the toll booth basket and pray that one of the quarters isn't blown away. I almost opted to let caution go to the wind and run it, but knew that, as sure as I did, the toll booth cameras would snap Baby's picture and list her on the "Most Wanted" board. (Although, she would look pretty up there, next to that picture of the sleek black '67 Impala ...)

After a knuckle whitening hour of pushing against the northwest wind that was slamming my Baby with it's force, hurtling rain from all sides at us, the storm finally seemed to slow down. I wasn't sure if I had gotten ahead of it or if it had passed on by. All I knew is that the sky began to lighten from black and charcoal gray to a lighter, more dull metallic gray and the wind and the rain began to taper back to a manageable gust and patter. Picking up speed, I was finally able to begin to feel more like a car and driver, instead of a fish in a row boat.

Of course, then I began to check out my surroundings ... noting the water swollen fields, the overflowing ponds and creeks, and the man who was trying to get a load of wet hay unloaded from the back of a truck in order to feed the cows that were lining up at the trough, despite the lightning in the background and the miserable cold rain that continued to pelt out of the sky.

Observation number 1:
Farmers deserve much more thanks than they are given ... more dedicated than a postman because despite the elements ... wind, rain, hail, snow, ice, heat ... the animals must be fed.

Continuing down the turnpike, feeling calmer and more relaxed, releasing the clench that I'm sure Baby had to be feeling on her steering wheel, I turned up the music on my radio and listened to the sounds of Steve Carlson, CCR, BTO, Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash and others as they played from my Baby's speakers. The wind had died further to occasional gusts and the rain wandered between drops and drizzle. The most difficult part now was working to stay away from the 18-wheelers as they kicked up the water, throwing a fine, and very blinding, mist up onto my windshields.

Now ... in my old car, the windshield wipers were controlled by my left hand, as they were attached to the part that operated my blinkers. Baby's windshield wipers are a bit more complex, with varying levels of delay and they are located on the right side of the steering wheel. While I've used them before, this trip gave me ample opportunity of practice in adjusting the settings that would set the wipers beating from right to left and back again regularly, swiftly or delayed, or, if I so chose, manually.

Observation number 2:
It's a fascinating way to pass the time when one finds themselves attempting to match the rhythm of the windshield wipers to the rhythm of the music coming from the speakers. Best song to work with? Dude! Asia's ... "Heat of the Moment" makes for hysterical laughter and can only be done with the manual wipers.

Observation number 3:
By this point, I might be a bit slap happy with dealing with little sleep, worry for my mom's upcoming surgery, trying to get to the hospital before they took her and driving through torrential storms and floods.

In case you hadn't figured that out yet.

With the rain finally having abated two hours after beginning the journey, my stomach told me that it required more than just the large thermos mug of tea (RoT's Earl Greyer ... really really good!), plus I needed to simply stretch for just a moment. So, I pulled off at a truck stop that I have frequented before and knew to be clean and prepared to go inside for a moment.

Observation number 4:
It's when you're pulled over and ready to get out of the car that you find you haven't completely gotten out of the path of the storm.

I literally opened the door, got out, closed the door and took a step towards the entrance of the little shop when the heavens opened up and sent forth the gale force winds and the blinding rain, shattering my hearing and sight with the subsequent thunder and lightning.

Yep ... me and Murphy's Law ... we're just THAT tight.

Making a quick stop, grabbing a bottle of water, a bag of chex mix, a bag of dark chocolate M&M's and saying a prayer that the "looked like fresh" danish really was fresh, I took the bag - after giving the clerk a raised eyebrow and glancing at the rain outside when she asked me "Paper or plastic" ... seriously ... and dashed to Baby's door, pulling it open and jumping inside as fast as possible to avoid minimum wetness both on me and in her.

Fixing up my little nest of goodies, starting her engine and heading Baby back onto the highway, I took a bite of my danish. It wasn't bad ... not completely fresh, but not bad. I thought to myself that I should have let it be zapped a moment in the microwave and of course, then, in the back of my mind, I'm hearing Dean from Supernatural's episode, "Simon Said", saying just once he'd like to eat something that didn't need to be microwaved at a mini mart.

Did I mention that I might be a bit slap happy?

Did I mention that it wasn't 10 minutes after leaving the truck stop that the rain once again slowed to a light, occasional mist?

Yeah ... not kidding ... me and Murphy ... we're that tight.

Heading on up the turnpike, breakfast, such as it was, is completed. The M&Ms are stowed in my bag for later snacking and the chex mix is open and occasionally being munched. I'm getting closer to my destination and, I'll be honest, I'm beginning to get a bit more anxious to get there. Still, conditions that they are, I keep Baby set on a cruise control of the speed limit. No need in Murphy letting the highway patrolmen have fun with me.

To occupy my mind, since it's way to early to be calling my friends and passing the time with my cell phone, I begin to let my gaze wander around the countryside. Now ... I know that they've been there ... I've traveled this road dozens of times over the last 18 years ... but it was on this trip that it simply amazed me as I realized the number of adult video shops that are located along the highway. I'm serious. Big signs advertising "XXX Videos" and "Adults Only" flashing neon in the pale gray light of morning. There aren't any other businesses. The towns are located back and away from the turnpike. These places have been opened in the abandoned buildings left from previous occupants such as Stuckeys, Nickerson Farms, etc. Those family friendly places that I remember stopping at as we traveled from Texas to Iowa and Kansas City to Minneapolis to visit family and friends during my childhood. The bright red roof or the pale blue trimming has been replaced with black and white and the rooms that held the restaurants serving homestyle food and offering tourist trinkets of t-shirts, tumblers, bells, & spoons have been replaced with ... well, I don't know and I don't want to know what the inside looks like now.

Observation number 5:
How can things be changing for the better when those places where parents felt safe to let their children roam, searching out candy and treats while they stretched their legs, have been replaced for places that are dark and advertise and cater towards the baser, primal instincts of our species?

Plus ... what the heck! These places are 24 hour and I'm here to tell you that many of them had cars and trucks parked in their lots as I passed and it was barely 8:30 in the morning!

That's. Just. WRONG.

Moving onward, I approached my destination. The rain was beginning to pick up and I was needing to pay closer attention. Keeping a close eye, I made the right exit and Baby hurtled towards the hospital where my Mom & Dad were waiting. Startled when my cell phone rang, I heard a family friend's voice telling me that they were taking my mom to surgery and wanting to know how much longer I would be. Checking the signs, I knew that I still had atleast 10 minutes to get to the hospital and then it would be a matter of the time it took to find a parking spot and get inside to the surgical area. Luckily we've been through this before and I knew in my mind exactly where I needed to go and how to get there.

Pulling into a parking spot, I gave a quick and silent thanks ... for the traveling mercies, the safety from the elements, for having Baby handle the roads like a champ ... and I ran into the hospital, stopping briefly at the door to close my umbrella and drop it into one of the handy dandy umbrella shaped plastic bags that the hospital provided at their entrance.

Arriving to the surgical waiting room, I found my family's friends but noticed the absence of my father. Finding out that he had gone with my mom to the prep area, I dumped my stuff and went to the large information desk I passed as I entered the room. Using my best "I've been delayed by the storms and I'm her daughter and she truly needs to see me before she goes" voice, I pled my case to the volunteers stationed there. Locating my mom in the computer, they glanced at each other and then back at me and one nodded to the other who rose and told me to follow her, that she would take me to see my mom.

And I did.

Despite the elements, the lack of sleep, and the slap happiness, I had made it in time to give my mom the hug and encouragement that she needed from her eldest child and, as I posted earlier, make it to the doctor's smile on the other side of the hours of waiting.

Final observation:

When it's really important, we do the things we need to do. We face the finger clenching elements and feed the cows or travel the turnpike and we do it with a rhythm that matches the music of our lives, with a giggle and a grin. Dry or wet, we take the sustenance when and where we can and we hurtle on, mindful of the past that is rich in memories, passing by the evil that surrounds us as we make our way to the ones who need us and love us.

But then ... those are just my observations on this trip. We'll see what happens next time Baby and I decide to go somewhere.

It's Thursday, So It Must Be ... Thanksgiving!

I love Thanksgiving.

Like the little train - I think of Thankgiving as the "little holiday that could".

Squished between the candy and costumed filled Halloween and the commercialism that seems to have overtaken Christmas, there is this little time when families come together and we as a nation remember that it's okay to give thanks for all that we have.

I am truly blessed and so, today, I am taking a moment to give thanks.

I give thanks for my family. They are all here with me today ... spending the day, relaxing, eating, watching football (well, they're watching football - I'll be watching them) and simply enjoying snatches of conversations with them, getting reaquainted, catching up and having fun.

I give thanks that I am fortunate and blessed to live in a country where my thoughts and beliefs are my own. They are not dictated by others and, whether others agree or disagree, I am free to voice them.

I give thanks for my girlies who fill my life with joy and happiness, even in the midst of driving me insane and coating my hair with strands of gray.

I give thanks for my nursery babes who show me each week the miracle of God's creation by the mere fact of their lives. Angels on earth that we are blessed to share.

I give thanks for my friends, both live and virtual. The give and take, the sharing of thoughts, the laughter, the tears, the frustration and the joy of emotions are always so much better when shared with a friend.

I give thanks for the opportunity to write. The joy received in being able to put words to paper (computer) and feel the pride of expression is something old and yet still so new and fresh.

I give thanks for the health I have for it means that I am alive to enjoy each day I am blessed to live.

I give thanks for the work that I do that provides for the creature comforts I have become accustomed to - home, food, electricity, water, etc.

And, of course, it is Thursday, so I also give thanks for Supernatural - to The Kripke, Jensen, Jared and all the writers and crew that provide us with quality television. The fun and joy I receive each week, whether it is in watching the program or sharing my thoughts with my blog buddies, is also a blessing rare and cherished.

So, there it is ... my list of thanks.

Thank you for reading and sharing in this little room where my thoughts tend to ramble.