1. The morning walk. One of them this week was cold, wet, foggy, and overcast, but everything is turning color and it’s still my favorite time of year. 

And just to give you a sense of how many attempts it takes to get a picture of Ringo looking at the camera, even though the whole time I’m saying, “Ringo, Ringo, look at me, Ringo, just once, please just look over here, look at me, look at me, look at me, I’ll give you a treat if you just look at me…” He knows exactly what I mean and what I want, but Cattle dogs are SO stubborn and independent, and I actually love that about him.

2. Taking care of myself. It can be really really hard for me, but when I do, it’s so good.

3. 29 years with this human. This picture is us when I came to visit Eric in Colorado his first year of graduate school at CSU in 1993. I was living in Oregon and he’d come for school, but when he left Oregon we weren’t dating yet — really really liked each other, were good friends but were both dating other people (although, we had kissed in the few weeks before he left — that’s a whole other story) and he was leaving to go to school so it seemed like it might not happen. However, we kept in touch with letters and phone calls and by spring break that first year, we were both single again and decided I needed to come out for a week and figure out what this thing might be, if it was anything, if it was what we thought it could be. By the end of the week, we’d traded “I love you” and he called to tell his dad that he knew he wanted to marry me as soon as he saw me get off the plane, (back in the old days when you could meet a flight at the gate even if you weren’t flying). On Sunday, it is our 29th wedding anniversary, and I would pick him again, choose him over and over and always.

4. Happy Birthday, Kelly! She would have turned 50 this year, if she were still here. I’d give her a hard time for getting old, tease her about it, send her flowers, celebrate her. I was so lucky to know her, am grateful to be able to love and miss her, as much as I hate the missing part.

5. My tiny family, tiny house, tiny life. It’s no small thing. ❤

Bonus joy: green tea, green grapes, cedar mulch, cooler temperatures, a clean dog (Ringo got a bath today and he is so soft), pizza, toast with butter and marionberry jam, a crisp gala apple and a spoonful of crunchy peanut butter, ice, a washer and dryer in my house so I don’t have to hoard quarters and drag my dirty laundry out in public, finally getting some appointments with my physical therapist, I can’t believe I’m saying this next one, but… being able to do pushups and crawls in small group training because the shots I got in my wrists made them feel 80% better so I could (something I never appreciated when I couldn’t), going to the gym this morning with Eric and sitting in the sauna together, looking out and seeing Eric and Ringo lounging in the backyard, snacks, writing with Laurie and the gang (especially Chloe’), Hendrix out in the world playing with other babies and kids, good neighbors (so far the two new sets seem to be okay), other people’s dogs, the flowers Eric brought home for me today, new books, the opportunity to start over as many times as I need to, naps, good TV (I finished I May Destroy You and started the latest season of Sex Education and Joe Kenda is featured in at least two more true crime series for Eric and I to watch together), listening to podcasts, grocery shopping, prescription benefits, vaccines, being able to get test results and make appointments online, normal mammogram results, tiny marshmallows, racoons, reading in bed at night while Eric and Ringo sleep.

1. Ringo Blue. That he’s here with us, healthy and happy and safe. 

2. The morning walk. Fall is the best season for walks. This week we saw lots of deer and a heron fishing for breakfast. One morning I was lamenting that we’d left too late to see the sun rise over the river, only to reach it and see a rainbow instead.

3. Fall. The color, the cool, the slowing down.

4. Good neighbors. We’ve been in our house for 20 years and have seen lots of people come and go, but it’s sad when the good ones leave and you don’t know the new ones yet.

5. My tiny family, tiny home, tiny life. I was thinking this morning about this post from Jeff Foster, in particular these lines: “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.”

Bonus joy: steroid shots for my wrists and the resulting easing of my pain, stretching, that corner of the couch, sunshine, blue sky, clean water and air, staying home in my pajamas all day, a blank notebook and a good pen, stickers, good TV and movies, listening to podcasts, comedy, kindness, Wild Writing with Laurie and my writing sangha (and the surprise of seeing Lee in class on Friday), texting Chloe’ a picture of a banana or a potato or a cookie and her knowing exactly what I mean, cancelled plans and the dear friends who get it, other people’s dogs, green tea from Japan, weighted blankets and brown noise, down pillows and blankets, hoodies, kittens, cows, being able to reach the river walking less than 15 minutes from our front door, flowers, bees, hummingbird hawk moths, trees, the hydromassage chair, leftovers, naps, reading in bed while Eric and Ringo sleep.