It was a very different Thanksgiving weekend for me this year. There was no turkey, no pumpkin pie, no cranberry sauce. No mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, gravy or stuffing. No chrysanthemums at the front door. No friends and family gathered around the table giving thanks.
Still, turkey or no turkey, Thanksgiving is always a time of reflection for me. A time to stop and have a think about gratitude — namely, the everyday things. Because naturally, I am grateful for friends and family and health and love and all those things that most people are grateful for. But I do believe the measure of one’s happiness lies in one’s ability to not take the small stuff for granted. The little kindnesses. The simple moments that make up a life.
These days, I am grateful for:
- Caitlin Moran’s book How To Be a Woman, which had me in hysterics.
- New running shoes.
- The smell of apple crumble baking.
- Revisiting old songs that remind me of my childhood.
- A weekend in the countryside. Reading by the fire. Riding in the back of a pick up truck. Learning how to make traditional Apple Charlotte.
- The highs after the lows.
- Indian summers.
- Expired black and white film.
- My photos being featured in this issue of Somerset Life magazine.
- Meeting an 80-yr old woman named Mary with a twinkle in her eye.
- Having time to write.
- The way the leaves smell this time of year. An almost clove like scent and the way it conjures up a potpourri of autumn smells: bonfires, pencil shavings, new textbooks, frost, curried pumpkin soup, hot apple cider.
- One hour film development (a godsend for the impatient).
- The salad I had for lunch.
- Waking up in his bed this morning. Crazy wind storm blowing outside. Wake up kisses on my back. And remembering how lucky we are… after all this time (corny, yes, but true).