I have been thinking a lot lately about how lucky I am. It is always easier to look at the things I wish could still be improved, or be fixed, or just get better in general, and it’s not always as easy to look back at all the things that are already just what I wanted, or needed, them to be.We have a beautiful house that we love, in a neighborhood we adore. We both have jobs we like very much, that provide good wages and terrific benefits. We are, for the most part, healthy. The cats are healthy. We’ve both got hobbies that we love and that we are also very good at, and groups of friends to hang out with, and piles of books to read when we want to just stay in. Our families are all doing pretty good – in health and in life – when compared to most, and all in all, it’s pretty hard to complain.

As I am typing this, I’m sitting in a chair with a purring cat on my lap. Outside, there are squirrels chittering in the trees and the sun is shining brightly, filtering down through the leaves that still remain overhead. As soon as I’m done posting this, I’ll go take a shower and then get dressed and put together the green bean casserole we were asked to bring for dinner. We’ll put out extra food and water for the cats and make sure the litter boxes are scooped, and leave blankets lying out on couches and beds and chairs so they’ve got places to cuddle up in little nests if they want, and then we’ll head down to Richard’s parents’ house for Thanksgiving dinner. It’s never quite the same as having Thanksgiving with my own family, but that’s never the same now anyway, now that my sisters and I are grown and have families of our own, and there are various dietary restrictions in place that weren’t there when we were young. But things change, even traditions, and sometimes I just have to remember to remind myself that I am lucky; that we are lucky, and for everything we have and everyone we love, I give thanks.

Posted for NaBloPoMo.