I think, as it did for a big portion of Americans, this year raised my blood pressure. In my case the doctor scared me into doing something reasonable and healthy, so every morning I walk as soon as the sun rises and I keep going until I’ve shed a few layers and found four miles have passed as I watch… The kids being chivvied along with, “We’re going to be late for school,” the joggers, the long-legged striders, the grandparents, the woman who waves from her kitchen sink, the smoker on the front porch who stubs out his cigarette to dig into a plate of eggs and bacon (yep, I could smell it all), the guy in his flip-flops walking the two tiny tufted dogs I couldn’t even begin to identify who reports on who’s already got their Christmas tree up, the bicyclists speeding by with a distinct swoosh — it goes on and on.
I love the people with bright faces, singing out, “Good morning!” And as for the ones with the vacant stares, plugged into their devices, that only bothers me when I see them pushing a stroller or with a baby strapped to their chest. If I were a bolder person I would confiscate their effing phones and tell them to come by my house and pick up their emotionally stunting online connector when they were done engaging with their young ones. But, believe it or not, there are limits to my bossiness.
What am I thankful for? Quite a lot when I think about it even in these trying times, but most of all, for the Mister, to whom I will have been married thirty years on November 28th.
Wishing you the very best, and if you’re inclined let us know what you’re thankful for.