While I can offer no other reason than not having internet access for more than 24 hours, thanks to my internet provider, for not posting every day so far in May, can I say that so many things can nourish us? Generally I think about food as nourishment, but in the last few days I've been nourished by so many people and occurrences that aren't edible, and a couple that are.
I am grateful and my heart is nourished by these:
A few days after my husband died, I was finding money everywhere: in the street, in a snowbank, in a parking lot, on the sidewalk. I think it was a message from him about abundance. Yesterday when I was feeling especially grumbly about how expensive all the errands I'd run that day had been, I found a quarter on the ground. Heads up. Another message. Thank you, sweetheart.
While I was walking my dog last week, my stepdaughter Susan was passing by on her way from a meeting, and pulled over just to give me a hug. Right when I needed it.
Worked with two friends today, Char and Brigitta, and something pretty silly made us laugh until we wept. Laughed until our sides hurt. Made the day. Good.
Got home from work, and my friend John, who is staying with me and helping sort out our clutter and my cluttered life, had a delicious hot dinner ready.
Got my summer clothes out of storage and all my pants from last summer still fit. One bad thing, though: space bags, no matter how carefully you fold your clothes, wrinkle the daylights out of everything.
My friend Steve got me to read Haruki Murakami by sending me two ebooks. Life looks a tad different now. Better.
That Amy, Betty and Barbara listen to me whine every day and still love me. The best friends ever.
That the folks over at Comcast have finally seen fit to replace my router and modem, and the wire from my home to the pole AFTER I have lost service lasting more than 24 hours four times in three months. Small thing to be grateful for, but there it is.
And I am happy that even though it is Cinco de Mayo, I feel no compunction to write a blog post about it, or eat Mexican food, though I do love it.
And finally I am grateful that when my poor little dog felt sick, he graciously tossed his cookies on a doormat that I hated on the porch, saving me any guilt about throwing it out.