I headed to the kitchen and found some granola in a tall Tupperware® "cereal box", and poured some into a bowl with some Silk™ soy milk. It's great to have this stuff for people like me who like milk, but milk doesn't like them.
I drained the carton, but then I remembered that the lovely Carol had bought more, in one of those nuclear-bomb-proof sealed boxes. So nice that she thought of me and my soy milk when she went shopping the other day. (She drinks milk from cows; it likes her just fine. So do I, come to think of it.) The granola was sweet, with not too much honey, and it was also fast, which was of interest this morning because of the time spent snuggling earlier (also a very nice time).
We got to the "Y" with a few minutes to spare, and I made my way to the cycling room. I was expecting to find John there, but an instructor I'd never seen was there instead. He was a tall white guy with less hair than I have, and he led us through a good workout. He's got a bit of the drill sergeant voice, which he uses to good effect. I was thankful to be there, and thankful when the class was over.
Came home and started a load of whites before heading into the shower. So nice to have a washing machine... and to have one in the house. I counted twenty-four socks going in; on one hand, that's going a lot to hang, but on the other, how nice to be able to go so long between wash days!
The shower sure felt good. Last night we watched a short video segment on World Vision's website, where the issue of clean water came up. We are so fortunate to be able to take for granted not just clean water, but running hot and cold water indoors.
The lovely Carol had an ESL student coming today for a lesson, and I thought how wonderful it was to be able to help people. I ground some coffee beans (a gift from one of her fellow MFA students) and heated some water in the microwave oven. I also fried an egg and put two slices of bread in the toaster (granola wasn't quite enough for me today, given the workout).
The laundry was done, and I went to the washing machine to find... that I'd forgotten to check all the pockets. Unmitigated Kleenex® disaster! I felt like an idiot but then I remembered no, we all make mistakes sometimes. I hung the laundry, shaking each piece first. Two of them went into the dryer (so nice to have a clothes dryer in the house!) but the rest went onto the laundry hangers (which look like this one).
The sun is out today, defying yesterday's predictions of showers. I re-hung a laundry pole outside—so nice to have sun today, a masonry bit for the drill, tools and wall anchors on hand....
We have missionary friends working in another country, and they have run into health problems requiring very expensive treatments not covered by a health plan. I thought about how fortunate we are here, not only to have medical insurance, but also to have money to be able to help them out. I logged on to our bank's website and had a check sent to them.
Someone called from another charitable organization to tell us about some of the great things that were happening, and to ask us for additional support. We never say "yes" on the phone, but afterwards, the lovely Carol and I talked about it and we were excited about what these folks are doing. I went online and sent them an additional donation. It's so convenient to be able to do that (the poor post office--they handle hardly any of our bills any more), besides having extra money to donate to this good work.
I could go on, but it struck me that it is so easy for me to be thankful because I've been given so much. Yes, I do have a day job (which I jokingly complain about sometimes—you know, it's a pain having a day job because it cuts into my personal time, etc.) so in some sense I earn money for the household. But I have this job in part because I've been given gifts, and I sometimes wonder if I've been as faithful with my gifts as others have been with theirs. I sometimes think of an aunt who may or may not have finished high school, who certainly never went to college, had not left the island she was born on before she was... in her 50s?—but approached the task of caring for her somewhat-disabled son with dedication and courage and love and intelligence. My cousin will never read or write, but he's found his place and became a contributing member of society. He knows, too, that he owes his place in life to his mother.
And that's another thing I feel so thankful for, is the heroic examples I've encountered in my life—not just in books, but in person.
Best of all is the knowledge that I'm already forgiven and that I have the promise of being made perfect in the world to come.
And that's what makes this morning the best morning ever.