reflect on things for which I'm grateful

1) my mom and dad, who are still healthy enough to be in my life, and the lives of my children

2) $0.99 ice packs that are perfect for chilling my spine down

3) The portability of my life/work/worldview in the form of my laptop

4) Oblivion

5) Carrot juice. (I know it was on the last one, but I really am grateful for it!)

I am grateful for

my family, and their unswerving support during my difficulties.

my business, which seems to live on, with our without me.

my health, irrespective of the current back injury. Makes me grateful for all the other parts that work so well.

my attitude, which defines me just they way I want to be.

Organic baby carrot juice.

The colors of Autumn, the smells of Autumn, the fresh air of Autumn, even the cold winds of Autumn. I love this season.

1) my writer’s club.
2) having my first submittal behind me
3) thunderstorms
4) my new glasses
5) post-its that have my company URL on them.

Today I’m grateful for pie. What a wonderful invention. Historians tell us that the first fruit pies date back to the decadence of Rome after the conquest of Greece. The Greeks invented the savory pie, but used the pastry shell as a cooking vessel more than anything else. If you define pie as bread/flour pastry containing something else, then the Egyptians deserve credit; there are clear pictures of “pies” filled with nuts and figs dating back to 1237BC. More than three thousand years of pie…

For Pie Day today, we got apple. Not my favorite. And it wasn’t a great apple pie. But still, it had a nice crunchy firm crust and sweet, gooey thick filling, and it made the day a little brighter, a little happier.

I like pie.

In the “five” tradition:

1) Dawn of War. _{ok, I’m shallow. so sue me}
2) The creative energy of a writer’s night last night that leaked into this morning, and led me to finish a new poem.
3) A writer’s mentality. Forget the punctuation; being a writer is a state of mind!
4) Amazingly cheap consumer electronics.
5) We still have five chicks!

No, he’s not much to look at these days. And he’s the target of more curses from family members than any other object, animate or inanimate. But I’m grateful for that stupid rooster just the same.

Two weeks ago, he was attacked by dogs. Or I suspect the dogs came to check out the chickens; “Hmm, smells like chicken!” and he attacked the dogs while the chickens ran. Against one dog, he can hold his own. But with two dogs, one can sneak up on him while he’s watching the other, and bite him in the butt.

That’s exactly what happened. By the time we got home, the back yard was thick with white feathers, and poor Milton the rooster was buttless.

That night, when I put them all to bed, I looked him over. In addition to having all his tail feathers ripped off, he had a bite taken out of him the size of a tangerine. Honestly, it looked so bad I didn’t expect him to make it. But that was two weeks ago. I just put him to bed tonight, and he’s growing new feathers, and the wound on his back is the size of a quarter and shrinking. I think he’ll make it. I hope so. I’m really rather fond of him.

Stupid rooster.

And the chocolate covered smile that comes with them. That’s my biggest gratitude today.

_{Dave chuckles like a madman}

We used to make fun of people by nationality. When I was a kid, Polish and Italian jokes were in vogue, although being part Irish, I enjoyed the Irish jokes most of all.

Then we realized some of these jokes were demeaning and hurtful, so we tried moving the collective conscious towards something neutral. “Nerd”, “Silly Billy” and “Moron” jokes never caught on, though.

But in this era of “America behaving badly”, I’m pleased to report that my kids now go on obsessively about Chuck Norris jokes. For those not versed in the art, these are really just hyperbole, like the old “strong Muldoon” or “Babe Ruth” jokes from 50 years ago or more. Some examples:

“Chuck Norris can kill two stones with one bird.”

“Chuck Norris violates Newton’s third law; there is no force which is equal and opposite to a Chuck Norris roundhouse kick.”

“Chuck Norris uses a night-light, but not because he’s afraid of the dark. The dark is afraid of Chuck Norris.”

Or my own personal addition to the Genre:

“The uncertainty principal, stated in its most general form, is ‘Delta E times Delta T is less than a constant of Chuck Norris’ choosing.”

Of course even my 15 year old sees how this is just a way to make light of the cowboy behavior of our current administration and poke fun at America’s unbelievable hubris. But understanding it makes it better, in a way.

It beats crying about it.

I’m grateful for my small town all the time. A sleepy little village in what used to the the North Quarter of Old Saybrook, some 350 years ago. I’m told it was a sleepy little village of the peaceful, trading “river peoples” of the Algonquin for 5,000 years before that. Maybe so, but the Algonquin didn’t have T-ball.

We showed up for T-ball practice, and my six year old knew all but one of the people on the team, from kindergarten or daycare or what have you. It’s a small town. The coach was pleasant and encouraging, and my boy took to the game like, well, like a boy to T-ball.

Tonight, after a pleasant sojourn with the in-laws to the Pequot Museum, the family sans myself and the little one went off to the opera house across the river in East Haddam. As soon as they were gone, he brought me my glove and a ball and said those magic words a father loves to hear.

“Hey, dad. Let’s go play catch!”

I like it here.