Today is the highest the index has been in eight days, a 9, and it seemed to be true from the moment I got up this morning.
It poured all night.
Maybe I could get a weather forecasting job.
Sometimes I get up when it is just barely light. I come downstairs and sit with my tea in the absolute quiet. An occasional car going by.
I love this time of day probably more than any other.
Time to reflect. Time to be grateful.
And believe it, I am.
I AM recovering from what seemed at the time to be catastrophic surgery. I am slowly, day by day, getting back to a place that feels normal, even if it is not my old normal. It's all relative, dear friends.
I have a lovely family, I do. And friends, good friends. And Roy. And 6 felines. And all of you.
I have the weaving studio that is a gift like no other, and I have friends who help me keep it going.
I have books, and looms, and yarn. I have hope.
Life is truly very good.
I know what it means to count your blessings. It is necessary. Do it now, so it will be in your pocket when a bad time comes calling. And you know that it will.
Lately I have been thinking a lot about how truly insignificant we all are. Not that we don't matter, but that there are so many of us, there are so many that came before us, and so many will come after.
We are part of so much more than we realize, but like one single star in a sky packed full.
Collectively, we shine.
Everybody needs his memories. They keep the wolf of insignificance from the door.