what has me pulling my hair and chewing nails to the nubs isn’t the green
bean casserole or burning the marshmallow yams again. It’s the writing
life, the part of me connected to my laptop via flying fingers and
to promote correctly? Why doesn’t my marketing EVER work? Can I finish this
manuscript before our mortgage is paid in full?
biloba later, and I’m still running on the hamster wheel. The good news is when
I look around the writing world—I’m not the only one.
post by Kristen Lamb and realized how far I’d fallen from the turkey trough.
Like Kristen (the Queen of Ultimate
Blogs), we have kid(s) at home, a
business to run, and shit to do…
to be thankful for than could possibly be named in one blog.
sweep or vacuum on a daily basis.
items of filth, I’d lead a very dull life indeed. I can’t imagine a day without
barking, manure-crusted boot soles, and laughter coming through the door.
of the rest of the world (a figure I pulled out of the air) lives without
indoor plumbing. My mother grew up in a home without running water or flush
toilets. I wilderness camped for 3 days (with two little kids) and had my fill
of digging holes.
and a lawn that’s gone to seed.
remind me that I’m fortunate to live in a home with a yard surrounded by trees.
(I can always set the sheep on the grass – they’ll mow and fertilize for me)
of my family.
seven months, I buried my dad and mom. They lived a full, vigorous life
and taught me the importance of exercise and clean eating. Most importantly, I
learned to take everything in moderation and deny myself nothing.
laundry, and an empty bird feeder.
endless plotting charts. However, if the
dresser were spit-shined, the laundry smelled mountain fresh, and wild birds nested
in my eves, I wouldn’t have time to massage my creative side.
I’d be frustrated
and one of those wives.
family: for putting up with my wild hairs.
friends: while I wish I could spend more time, there’d never be enough time.
readers: I do it all for you.
with family and friends. Remember to be thankful for the ants that invade your
cupboards, the backed up sink, and the neighbor’s dog who leaves a present at
the base of your mailbox every morning.
Be thankful we live in a country rich
with food and clean water, gridlock traffic, and six o’clock news.
Be thankful. I am.