Black are my steps on silver sod;Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;
And tree and house, and hill and lake,
Are frosted like a wedding cake.
Robert Louis Stevenson
Gratitude:
552. for visible, steamy breath from my sister's horse's nostrils
553. for the way my animal-loving niece walks her goat on a leash
554. for my dad's emotional heart... a softness that replaces memories
555. for my step-mom's support of him; an obvious respect
556. for my sister's cozy home with the wood stove as the "hub" of the activity
557. for my other sister who still made pies for the family reunion even though she was snowed in... her hope of getting shoveled out :)
558. for my three year-old nephew who wrote on my chair with marker and with big brown puppy eyes said, "Sawry"
559. for my boy who, when being tucked in tonight, proudly stated, "Do you know why I call this my 'Fluffy Blanket'? Because it's my blanket and it's fluffy." Really?
560. for traveling grace
