Happy Monday

Have you ever noticed how after a dark time, that has been ever so gradually lightening up, finally, that you don’t have to make yourself think up happy lists for journaling to counter balance all the moaning written there. Today I  started writing a happy list. No boot strap pulling. No making it up because the apostle Paul said, “And be thankful.” I know the old cliche mantra that says there’s always something for which to be thankful. But I say there’s a huge difference between that and actually having a feeling of gratitude well up in the heart so much that you want to share to it.

My Thankful List

• We rearranged the living room today. Afterward, I couldn’t remember, exactly, why I thought we needed to change something, but it turned out nice. I think it had to do with freeing up the alcove to accommodate our house plants. Maybe it was about mopping the floors right for once. We have wood heat with dirt and dust accordingly. So I began pulling the two love seats out and shoving them into different spaces which called for moving the area rug and other chairs and end tables and the beautiful coffee table that LaMar built. And standing in the chaos wondering how to do. The alcove became my focus. I wanted a lighter, airier feel there with greenery. Elv kept stopping by my circus to quizzically not frown. In the end, he ignored my chasing him off so he wouldn’t lift anything, wading in to give ideas and to help. He did some lifting and shoving, too. He’ll pay for that. No matter, because it turned out splendidly. He even built in a place for coat hooks by the back door.
• We are burning snappy, green spruce right now. Great orange-y, yellow and red flames for warm ambience.
• I happen to know there’s a snail mail letter from a friend coming my way.
• I have plans to fly to Idaho to see family.
• I get to write today.
• I also happen to know that praying for our children, even when they’re grown up, yields fruit.

• I have climbed down off my high horse to enjoy hanging out laundry between trees as opposed to a “real” clothesline. At least for now. The towels have to be draped over the lines by a third the length, if you know what I mean, because the snow brings the lines closer to the ground. There’s plenty of therapeutic benefit to pinning wet towels quickly before they freeze stiff as a board. Or standing there listening to the woods. And suddenly needing to run back indoors because you’re shivering cold. Rushing into the warmth again. All of which is far nicer than having to hang them on hooks, lines, and hangers all over inside the cabin to dry. We do some of that too, but towels can have their three days if they like to dry out there.
• A winter sunrise through the spruce trees is amazing. Especially with snow on the ground. I think it’s the colors that happen: golden glow through the haze of messy branches and then across the pond the tops of the spruce turn yellow for a few minutes. Besides being white, on a sunny day in Minnesota, snow is blue and grey and creamy and yellow depending on what the light is doing.

Have a lovely, week. Let’s not get edgy quite yet about spring coming. All in good time. For now, winter tries to be convincing with random snow storms, warm days, and cold nights. I love all that drama. Don’t you?