1. Morning walks. They were shorter but we got to take them this week, and it made me so happy. There was only one morning we only went around the block, but that was because it was snowing (yay!) and it was the kind that spring brings, heavy and wet.

2. Ringo’s “care team.” In particular, Dr. Gaffney at Mulnix Animal Clinic, Dr. Foster at Animal Elevation, and Dr. Rychel and Teri at Red Sage Integrative Veterinary Partners. The past couple of weeks have been rough and having them available, so smart and caring, has been so good. Ringo has arthritis, this is nothing new, but there is a spot on his back that has been particularly uncomfortable and a bit of a mystery the past few weeks, but we are hoping we’ve got it properly located, identified, figured out, and our plan will bring us all some relief. Let’s not talk about how much money has been spent — too bad “working breed” doesn’t mean they have a job and get paid for it. 

3. Two of my favorite boys share a birthday. They turned five this week. Happy Birthday!!!!!

4. Practice. Thursday morning yoga and Friday morning wild-ish writing along with the tender big hearted humans who practice with me kept me alive this week.

5. My tiny family, small house, little life. Like I said, the past few weeks have been tough, but no matter how hard things get, there’s nowhere I’d rather be, no one (two) I’d rather be there with. No matter what happens, we’ll just keep trying, keep taking care of each other the best we can.

Bonus joy: Olly stress gummies, strawberries and raspberries, cinnamon swirl bread from The Bread Chic, good TV, listening to podcasts, comedy and comedians, getting the laundry done, poetry and poets, lowering the bar, eating whatever sounds good regardless of its nutritional value because sometimes you just need to eat something, crying, a hot cup of coffee and warm mug of tea, massage, getting in the pool and the sauna (they are going to be closed for about two weeks for repairs, *sob*), libraries and librarians, a warm shower, clean sheets, down blankets and pillows, staying in bed in the morning even though you are awake because it’s just so cozy, giving away things that are precious to people who are the same, hugs, birds, other people’s pets, Eric coming back to tell me Ringo had moved to that spot on Sam’s couch where the sun hits this time of the morning and the deep sigh he did when he laid down, this poem Michelle shared yesterday and in particular this line: “a wild place, toothed and flowering,” reading in bed at night while Eric and Ringo sleep, and these two pictures, one of my aunt Monica at her husband Bruce’s celebration of life service holding baby Hallie for the first time and another of the way the light hits the glass in my front door some mornings and reflects onto the wall.

P. S. Kind and gentle reader, I feel this week in particular that I want to honor how hard, how much effort it can take sometimes to be grateful. We can be so desperate to grasp at some sort of comfort, we say dumb things like “it could be worse” to try and cheer ourselves up. The world is heavy and even our domesticity, as the poet above says, can be “unnavigable, and not for the tenderhearted.” In these moments, all I can do is remind myself what Jeff Foster said, “Impermanence has already rendered everything and everyone around you so deeply holy and significant and worthy of your heartbreaking gratitude. Loss has already transfigured your life into an altar,” and keep making this list every week, keep saying “thank you.” If you are finding it hard to be grateful, to keep going, I see you, and I’m right there with you. Stay tender. Keep your heart open. Don’t give up. And thank you, thank you for still being here. ❤