Grateful

I love this time of year. November brings a sort of stillness and quiet, animals settling in for the winter, people slowing down. (Well. . . they speed back up in December, but then they slow down!)

As Thanksgiving nears, I tend to focus my gratitude in part on seasonal blessings. Focusing is a good thing; it keeps me from going on and on. . . and on and on.

I am grateful for. . .

• leaves that change from yellow and flame-colored to old gold and bronze
• mist and wind and early morning rain
• songs about such, like “In the Early Morning Rain”

• a warm, dry place to sleep
• fires, candles, blankets, quilts. Oh, and flannel anything (shirts, PJs), sweatshirts when they are new and soft, slipper socks

• tomato-based anything: chili, spaghetti, my mother’s vegetable soup
• reading in bed, especially mysteries
• family coming from out of town to be together
• my mother, age 86, and my dad, age 87
• my wonderful husband and Ben and Gary, our sons – loved, loved, loved everyday
• spiritual blessings
• seeing compassion and love, bravery and care
• hope. . .for more of these, for all creatures great and small
• hope. . . to do better, be better

And last but not least. . . anything pumpkin flavored: pies, muffins, bread, donuts (yes, I found them this year), lattes, soup. . .

“Hurrah for the fun, is the pudding done?                                                                              Hurrah for the pumpkin pie!”                                                                                                       (from “The New-England Boy’s Song about Thanksgiving Day” by Lydia Marie Child)