Lessons in gratitude

 

Sophie and me with new haircuts

Each day I am more convinced that we make our own happiness. It’s up to us to decide if we’re going to be happy or sad, full of joy or full of regrets and “what if” dreams. Oh, sure, everybody has down days, but I’m talking about overall general attitude.

And I think that starts with the daily-ness of life. So here are the things I’m grateful for today: A beautiful spring day, with lots of sunshine and lovely temperatures, plants showing their spring glory all around. The ground cover in the back yard went so suddenly from dull brown to brilliant green, and the big oak trees that make my driveway a known hazard seemed to leaf out in less than a week. I’m particularly glad to see the oak-leaf hydrangea coming back, and the bed is cleared for this season’s crop of pentas to be planted. Some questions remain—like most of the shrubs on the north-facing front of the house, including the big rosemary bushes. And I don’t get up to the front daily so I’m not sure what the lantana is doing but my understanding is you can’t kill that stuff if you want to so it should survive a freeze. And like trees all over town, my redbud is blooming.

Sophie and I both have new haircuts, though I must say she wears hers better than I do. I’m working on getting her to look directly at me for a good picture—do you have any idea how hard it is to photograph a black dog?

Jordan and I got some errands done today—mailed some give-away books, went to the pharmacy and to the delicatessen to get matzoh so I can make matzoh crack for Easter. I thought it only fitting to have a Passover dessert with what will be a rather odd menu for friends Subie and Phil and me—home-cured gravlax, Russian potato salad, egg butter that Subie learned to make in Finland, and asparagus. A midsummer’s feast.

My cottage is shining clean. Zenaida got into all the nooks and crannies this morning, and I have clean clothes, a sparkling kitchen, wooden floors without puppy tracks on them. And the whole place smells so good.

Things I’m a little less grateful for: it is impossible to reach the county tax office. You must appear in person, notarized form in hand, to renew a handicapped parking tag. So we went out there today only to find it locked tight—apparently they closed for lunch without advance notice. But I am uncertain if we need an appointment and if I have to appear or Jordan can go in and get it. Their phone messages is left over from February. Tried to call the main office, mis-dialed and got the weather forecast. Most frustrating! Anybody remember when you could call an 844 # and get the weather? Well, the tax office is 884, and I mixed the two up and was indignant when I got a weather forecast.

Just got the email receipt for Sophie’s new haircut. She looks gorgeous, but I am going to be a dog groomer in my next life—costs way more for her to get a haircut than it does me, and I’m fairly sure she’s as well behaved as I am. This writing business is fun and challenging, but it does not quite make one rich.

And today I read that whatever you spent on hand sanitizers and masks is a tax deductible medical expense. Since thanks to trump’s great tax cut for the rich, all medical deductions were disallowed for 2020, who thought to save those receipts? Surely not me. Now they tell us!

On the whole just for today, I’d say the things I’m grateful for outweigh those I’m a bit hesitant about. I’ve known several people with various ways of recording their gratitude—one friend had a gratitude month, where she posted each day one thing for which she was grateful. Another friend kept a joy jar—every time something good happened she jotted it down on a piece of paper and stuck it in the jar. Said at the end of the year it was enlightening to read all those bits and scraps of paper. I haven’t gotten so organized as to follow either of those suggestions yet, but it seems to me stopping every once and a while to count your blessings moves you ahead on the road to joy.

Have a happy evening everyone.