A crunch underfoot, and the week that was




I spent a little of last night trying to get anything to work on Facebook — feed, settings, opening photos, but I knew it wasn’t entirely my Google-less phone’s fault when the feed didn’t work and that something had been changed on Facebook’s end. I figured it out this morn, but I tire of figuring out things. Hence, when the new WP editor becomes mandatory, I may give up the textual ghost and just edit pages and pages of verse for posthumous publication. (“Did you know Mom wrote poetry??” Surely, it will go well.)

Until then, there is now. Today. It’s all we ever really have, so…

Still doing the Christmas crazy-thing, here (almost done, almost done!), there’s a new faucet set in the kitchen (Wolfgang would approve, hence, it looks out of place but works just fine), and there was a 2-hour school delay from snow, back a few days when I had more marbles.

This coming week there are 3 days off from school, one of which I’ll be covering, more snow/cold coming, and a trip out of state for one of us. The rest of us will do the turkey thing, here. There will be at least 7 of us and perhaps the fellow from the halfway house.

Usually, I just want to not do the traditional at all, i.e., “Look, let’s get bagels and head down to the pier/park and commune with the other-living, there. (I’d have made a really good wino.) Let’s go breathe in salt air and shout, ‘Thank You!’ and feed the ‘gulls and..”  No? It’s always, “Heck, no,” actually. Turkey-daughter assures me she would crash the soup kitchen for a turkey dinner. We don’t want that.

Things that stood out for me: The water over the dam. The lead-up to it runs across the land, and although the water was absolutely crashing over the edge, the flat part seemed as still and smooth as a mirror. Its darkness was outlined in snow and the trees were perfectly reflected in it. Stunning! And, coming back from a school delivery, I came upon the cutest snow-pawprints in the whole world near the pumpkins on the front steps. They made me laugh. Later, grandson and I spotted even tinier ones which looked just like cat-pawprints in miniature, but were most likely made by the gray squirrels’ cousin, the red.

In the midst of a country with fires (and firings) of every kind taking people down, one has to count one’s blessings. It’s funnier to say in posts that I don’t, but I certainly do. Every Thursday that isn’t hungry or woeful is reason for a Thanksgiving feast. Every day that’s warm inside and has a private bed at the end of labors that matter only in the long run, is a thankable-to-Him-and-others day. Every Sunday is a show-up-to-thank-Him day.

I am tremendously blessed. I wish everyone was. They won’t be, unless I do my thing towards that. Unless we all do our thing towards that.

We are family. God bless us, every one.






One thought on “A crunch underfoot, and the week that was

  1. Yes. And, I am counting my blessings thankfully!

    Liked by 1 person

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