Here, in gratitude, I wake up to the peaceful spring sunshine and read my morning paper. I turn on my computer and chat on Facebook, read websites, and write this blog. I wash my windows and put up the screens. I send my husband off to fish on the Missouri River. I get in my car and quietly drive to the nearby grocery store for supplies. I emptied the dishwasher of clean dishes and my washing machine & dryer are cleaning my clothes as I write this. I will sit in the sunshine and read quietly later today. I put a letter on my postbox to my sister that the US Postal Service will come pick up and deliver to her. I live in a safe neighborhood in a snug house and probably twenty cars a day, at most, drive by on my street. We have a beautiful yard in which we grow much of our food. Tomorrow we will drive to Pheasant Haven Lodge to gather with good friends for the Badlands Conservation Alliance board retreat. Tuesday I will pack a suitcase and my husband will take me to the airport where I will simply show my driver's license to board a plane to fly to Tucson to spend a week with treasured lifelong friends.
I am sorrowful for the people of Syria, and outraged that more bombs are raining down on a part of the world where the horror is, to me, unimaginable.
My blessings are abundant. I am also grateful that my father, my husband, my brothers, my niece and nephews, and so many others made great sacrifices in their lives so I could live in this level of comfort, security, and serenity.
"From the backstabbing co-worker to the meddling sister-in-law, you are in charge of how you react to the people and events in your life. You can either give negativity power over your life or you can choose happiness instead. Take control and choose to focus on what is important in your life. Those who cannot live fully often become destroyers of life." Anais Nin
I am grateful for the color yellow.
I write in resistance to armed conflict as a solution to problems. All I have is my writing. This afternoon I will enjoy the sunshine on my back patio and watch the migrating sandhill cranes fly over the northern Missouri River valley and be grateful.
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