Giving Thanks

I know the Sunday school answers are: my house. My mom. My dad...

But seriously- I love my house. Every crooked little bit, all the noises it is full of- such life.

I love my kids. I love it when they make noise; even when I hate it with every fiber in my body. Lately Micah has been bringing his recorder home from school and teaching Sam each song as he learns it in grade five music class. I figure that to simplify... we'll just bump both boys up to junior high in two years and they can enter band together.

Sam drew the picture above on Jane's white board. I love it when kids go from stage to stage of drawing people. I notice that he thought of fingers this time. More lovely than that, he added a heart between the portraits of himself and his sister. Jane has drawn lines around the picture, and does not erase it. It stays in her room and warms her at bedtime.

Arianna has picked up the guitar. Spending four weeks at summer camp has done her a world of good. As I type about lovely noises in a house full of love (even when its not...) Dianna Krall croons lazily. No Screens Sunday. Gotta love it. (please don't point out that I must be on a screen to be writing this post. Just believe me when I say that I'm typing it out on an old ink typewriter and its being bounced into cyberspace quite by magic...)

Speaking of screens. I'm very thankful for the laptop that Brian gave me for my fortieth birthday last year. It has meant the Darfur project, to a large extent. I can now maintain the site in any area of the house, while still being keeper of the grounds.

I truly love my laptop. Well, and Brian, of course.

Lory. And the stumble button.

That "accidental" two-hour-turned-48-hour stop-over at Lory's house this July was the highlight of my summer. I remembered a piece of me; spending those days sleeping in a musty old camper, wandering through a glorious meadow, breathing in her creativity, spending long hours connecting at the campfire.

Then Lory introduced me to StumbleUpon. Its a wee button- so innoculous looking... up in my toolbar. Much better than flipping through a tree hating over priced magazine, I can now simply browse the internet through my stumble button. Try it. You join, enter your interests by category, and the stumble tool finds amazing sites all in your interest categories. Many an hour has been gloriously wasted with invested in stumble.

The wonder that is snail mail.

People's generosity. I love the cheques for Darfur, the hand-me-down fabrics, and the handwritten notes of encouragement (I have a bit of a shrine in my sewing room). And if that weren't entirely enough, lately I have also received gifts. This humbles me completely because if there is one thing that I have zero, zilch, nada skills in-- its the art of gift-giving.

Missm sent me a pair of kotex panties for the dog during her special menstrual cycle. I had a long, long, satisfying laugh when I pulled those tempting dainties out of their wrapper. Oh, the entrepeneurial giftedness of some people! Thank you m, I so appreciate your kindness.

Remember that lovely wooly bag that went on the bag blog not long ago? Well, I auctioned it off instead of hiding it under my mattress like I wanted to. And guess what? That zewom paid for it, and sent me an e-mail indicating that she had bought it as a gift for me! ME! And I love it. It's a great size- makes me think of making a smaller Darfur bag. Now all I need is to clear my schedule so that I can spend twelve hours a day on that....

And then there's that vehicle I function through. Me, Myself, and I. My body and I.

Everyone should pursue turning forty. Or figure this stuff out early. My body is heavier than I would have ever believed that I would "let myself go" to. Yet, when I see a photo and a tummy creases over my waistband, I no longer feel overwhelmed with shame. You may not think that's a big deal. It isn't. Its a huge, massive, gargantuan, unquantifiable deal.

My body is a vehicle. It enables me to live my life. Its fingers work and love, clench and carress.

Those thighs- the bane of my existence- allow me to swing out of bed in the morning, feet hitting the floor filled with anticipation for all the joys and challenges within it. Those spidery veins spreading across them like some mass immigration brag of the babies that this body has nurtured, all the miles these legs have travelled, and the preparation my vehicle makes to enter into all the changes that has yet to grace her.

Thanksgiving.

I'd have to go with the sunday school answers after all. We have food and shelter. Love and safety. Hope.

What are your first five?