My gratitude list grows long today.  I’ll share it with you on the condition that you comment here (or on Facebook) to add your own.  This means YOU.

I’ll start with being grateful for the ability to voice my opinion in my political blog, which you can find here.  That has particular significance this week.  I’m trying not to complain, but events of the last twenty-four hours have given me much about which to wail on the political and legal front. I’m keen to do so and fortunate to have an outlet.  I can maintain the charade of not-complaining.

As the dog barks at the shimmering air in the side yard, I feel immense thankfulness that my new neighbor has a Lab which runs to and fro joining in the morning roll call.  No complaints to the city between us!

Speaking of backyards, the tangle of weeds reminds me to preemptively thank Trish Hughes and her sister Mary Ellen for this afternoon’s planned yardwork party.  I’ll post before and after pictures tomorrow.

My sister and my son gave me reason to feel grateful yesterday.  Each called to touch base.  My son announced a planned visit and the intent to go to the bi-annual family reunion with me.  Joyce joined me in trying to figure out how to be in two places at once, since a niece’s bridal shower coincides with the reunion.  Both Patrick and  my sister keep my number on speed dial.  So thankful.

Last evening, I joined other Waldo Brookside Rotarians at the 7540 Washington Community Partnership monthly dinner.  My Rotary Club has adopted an apartment building which houses young adults aging out of state custody.  Each First Thursday we gather for a dinner provided by our Club’s District Grant funds.  The residents allow us into their space, giving us a view of their world and a connection to them that brightens our lives.  Last night one of them explained the ozone layer to me.  He detailed the chemical reaction that results in its thinning, commonly described as a “hole in the atmosphere”.  My mind could barely follow his complex and autodidact recitation.  Whatever we do for them, they return tenfold with the joy that this partnership brings us.

I’m especially and gleefully thankful for the sight of one of our members behind a nifty, make-shift sundae bar, dishing up ice cream and toppings to everyone in attendance.  You have not truly lived until you’ve seen a high-level Jackson County official with caramel sauce on her hands and a grin on her face.

I fully accept that I lapse into complaint now and again.  I’ve even been known to throw up my hands in lament.  I’ll spare you any platitudes, mindful of my mother’s admonishment that people who begin sentences by saying “I know I’m not perfect” usually think they are.  At week’s end, I feel immense gratitude that I draw breath; that I live within four walls which protect me from the elements; that I can grind coffee and toast gluten-free bread overlaid with lactose-free cheese beside a mandarin orange.  Gratitude oozes from my soul and soothes my aching muscles.  For all that I lack, I have much compensation.  My lens comes into focus.  A ridiculous smile rises from my lips and lights my eyes.

It’s the fifth day of the forty-first month of My Year Without Complaining.  Life continues.

LIVINGSTON TAYLOR’S ‘THANK YOU SONG’