Today I am grateful to listen as a dad tells the story of who we should hold responsible for his son's death.
"We, the people," he says.
Today I am grateful to listen as a dad tells the story of who we should hold responsible for his son's death.
"We, the people," he says.
It ends this morning though she's been moving out on me ever since that second time we met. I begged for one last chance at morning light. She's letting me have it with only a portion of the pieces. Some she created yesterday afternoon at a red barn, a field, the bridge, the trail and the roots of a tree.
Today I am grateful to meet her and to have one last chance at morning light.
There are those stories where we just turn everything off. Where it is just us. Right?
Today I am grateful for cabinet doors and drawers and those stories and us and this as well.
He asked for a blueprint to that project, I smiled and then.
Today I am grateful for a session in a town, down a road, near a creek, one with the girls on a beach and now documenting a process through the creation of a path on the screen.
Today I am grateful for a three day job, the doctor who sent me to the edge of sanity, help from those who better understand and a voice with a smile I recognize.
Yes, when trying to impress I do show off my new chair height elongated toilet.
Today I am grateful for the opportunity to get the house back in order.
They made their first lemon pie and threw together this fruit salad which set a slice of watermelon on a saucer like a slice of pie with grated pineapple on top and a dusting of dark chocolate microplaned on that thing with a small square of sharp cheddar and two mandarin orange slices on the side. That was just the start.
Today I am grateful for the fruits of your labors dinner and its creators.
The fan forces me to put the sweater on. It seems I live in at least a momentary rainforest. The dryer is warming up some towels and the hike provides a deadline for the creation of at least one of the two lemon pies. Pork and chicken, two proteins in one meal and sauces that the girls pick. Buggs of the Patches has yet to find me.
It's a good time for those straw bristles to hit the floor but the mop ain't about sound at all. It's about him and the candles. And yes, I must dust.
Today I am grateful for a Saturday morning and the work I'll do to music. I know Michael did it first.
Today I am grateful he made it home, the smell of cut grass, a porch swing and time to relax.
She got us three compasses. One each to wear around our wrists.
Today I am grateful to be reminded of time and focus.
"I don't want to be a rock." There's a whine to it. She kicks small fragments of hard, red clay down the steep little hill. Pause.
Today I am grateful for cousins, watermelon, trails, snake eggs, backroads, swimming and climbing.
Goggins Saturday when I haven't listened in much more than a week.
Today I am grateful for an energy and the truth.
It was first witnessed in 1992.
Today I am grateful for Moss highlights on the internet, the armadillo story, grandpa, family and an offer I'll continue to repeat.
I'm going to push all of this panic of gotta get whatever it is so I can get up and do it all over again so I can get closer to the day when we'll climb a mountain. That will come.
Today I am grateful for how that kid is there for his girl.
She asks, "Do you mind if we go visit some places I love?"
Today I am grateful for jobs, work, a broom and a mop.
Realistic expectations, hoping that you'll find something to make it through the day, knowing you have plenty, coming to understand the two sides of the coin, making the choice to go on or not and respecting the decisions of others.
He was quiet and sweet.
Today I am grateful for a long line, a red light that takes forever to change and the coffee not yet made.
Today I am grateful for all the mamas, the large pasture out back, the kids and the opportunity to create a breakfast for this mama of mine, all mine. My brothers can't have her.
When he was five years old I asked him, "What do you want in a home?"
"Trees."
I had to get him and her one each. He agreed. Then her and her and I needed three. I'll give him one of mine but surely I can have two.
Today I am grateful for him and her and them, the sun and the season.
Today I am grateful for an alarm clock, corded brown telephone, am/fm radio in a shiny woodgrainlike (not the official name) finish combo that replaced with precision the two month old digital wonder which attempted to destroy my day. But now. Now the whole place reverberates with a ship horn at four. I am grateful for a floorboard, old Clorox jars, a jack, paint, sheetrock and the absolute brilliance of a group of people.
Today I am grateful for talented and generous people who are helping me recreate one of my favorite spaces.
Today I am grateful for your music, the evolution of a room, the sound the dryer used to make, a drive to Alabama and the chance to help a guy out.
"I said you remind me of the summertime and I still mean that." Dermot Kennedy
Today I am grateful for her intensity and focus and tenacity and how she physically powers the world, how spring and sports and blue skies and how her mama sends me photos of the news and how a car ride to your great, great aunt ends with a party girl quilt and how that quilt came from the room of which she sits center and writes in a notebook that on May 1, 2021 you got the party girl quilt (71 of 82).
I am grateful for women.
Isn't this some type of woman day? If so, happy that with some of these.
There is Moss, and I'm glad he lives in England because I never need to be anywhere near him since I am a member of whatever fan club of his who just writes a blog post.
Today I am grateful for the group of people who work with Jen and those that helped me with my dinner.