Gratitude * Sunday
Sunday’s heartfelt tradition.
A time to slow down, to reflect, to be grateful.
A list of gratitudes, our gratefulness feeds one another.
Quoted from Taryn Wilson
Joining the Gratitude Sunday Tradition at Wooly Moss Roots.
Fog lies earthly close
edges wrap near to blanket
me obscured from light.
I want to be a goose, never knowing I have a big fluffy butt, waddling on land, floating on water, flying with wide spread wings from north to south and south to north again just because of where the sun is.
I want to be a horse, strong and sleek and powerful, to run galloping away and to and from, munching oats and hay, and sleeping on clean warm straw.
I want to be a cat, fed excellent foods by the humans I keep, supplementing with freshly killed proteins to keep my yard free of rodents, hiding in crevices of trees and corners of my yard, keeping all invaders at bay, languishing in the sun, retreating indoors only when it rains, sleeping on any bed I choose.
I want to be a slug, going at my own pace, unaware of time or responsibilities, making my own slippery trail of slime so I can travel over any surface, feasting on the abundance of so many dead things on the ground, master of decomposition.
I want to be a manatee, unaware my huge ugly body is huge and ugly because it doesn’t feel that way to me as I glide freely about the sea, and nobody judges my face because it is just my manatee face and this is how manatees look.
I want to be a snake, to slide every where I go, so cold I seek constant sources of heat.
I want to be an elephant, with inborn grace of movement because my large legs and flat feet carry me securely on the ground, my barrel belly rolls as I stroll with confidence and ease, my long trunk gracefully fills my large mouth with luscious treats, my tiny tail switching the flies away from my big rear end yards away from the front of me.
I want to be a squirrel, rodent with a cartoonable face and fluffy curling tail, running up trees and down fence rows, fat full of dandelion roots and acorns and twirly-gig seeds, making my soft nest in tree hollows.
I want to be a cow, munching on sweet green grass all day, enjoying the fresh air until the milk wants to burst out of my udder, and the relief so sweet when empty, I start all over again.
I want to be a mouse, tiny enough to slip under doors and through the smallest holes in walls, running faster than snakes and cats, whiskers minutely sensitive, seeing in the dark.
I want to be a rabbit, hopping and skipping through my day, though my feet seem too big.
I want to be a bat, winged rodent, small sharp teeth, soft brown fur, lover of rotting fruit, able to catch a speeding gnat faster than humans can see.
I want to be a pig, wallowing in fresh wet mud, eating leftovers, round and soft and pink.
I want to be a dog, able to scent the difference of any human, ready to kill and knowing when not to, wanting only the graces of my human master.
I want to be a bird, any bird, singing sweet songs, and able to fly far, far away.
Color Watch – blooming attractions in my neighborhoods this week – Halloween colors this week: my prolific grape, shades of purple and green; oxalis gone all blood burgundy and still blooming dead skin white; purple asters striped with a yellow belt, a strange flowery clown; tree across the street yellowing from the top down; yellow eyes spotted against a dried blood fence; pink and purple fuchsia blooming Icabod Crane-like on pink and green stalks; shiny green leaves hiding what I think is quince, they don’t quite look like apples; a rain blossomed mushroom mimicking a toasted marshmallow; vivid orange and green sprays of cotoneaster; roses still blooming in our mild October: blood red, skin white, harvest yellow.
Currently Reading – Grandma Rose’s Book of Sinfully Delicious Snacks, Nibbles, Noshes, and Other Delights (1978, cookbook) by Rose Naftalin; The Narcissism Epidemic: Living in the Age of Entitlement (2009, psychology) by Jean M Twenge and W Keith Campbell; Explain Pain (2003, science) by David Bulter; Mr. Strangelove: A Biography of Peter Sellers (2004, biography) by Ed Sikov. Yes, concurrently.
Starting to consider what to read for my Winter Classic. Any suggestions?
This week I have been grateful for:
- Clean rain.
- Warmish days and cool nights.
- Open doors and fresh air. In October!
- Beauty in an ugly gourd.
- The aquatic center I use. A warm embracing pool of water.
- Birthday wishes from thoughtful people and beloved friends.
- Pain, nature’s warning system, reminding me I am alive every step of the day.
- Microwaveable heat packs.
- Home made grape jelly.
- Still being able to work.
- Still be able to walk.
- Learning more about myself and selfishly wanting to be unapologetic for being who I am and the way I am. Realizing I don’t want to have to monitor every word out of my mouth and care about other people’s reactions, though I do. Like Popeye, I yam what I yam.
- Gathering courage to speak the truth and knowing how to deal with the panic attacks that come while preparing.
- Scary movies on DVD for October.
- Sweet, buttery, ripe Comice pears.
Hoping you have a lovely week.
Namaste. Peace. Blessings.
Floral ribbon border by Laurel Burch