I have, rather late in life, re-acquired the habit of making my bed every morning. On Saturday or Sunday, I put on fresh everything, so last night I climbed into soft, clean, sweet-smelling sheets. This is one of the simplest, richest blessings.
All week Facebook has been kindly reminding me of my life 2 years ago this week. Babygirl was desperately ill, and I was as far from anything like home as I've been in a long time. She is sitting with me now, looking for furniture for her room. We are both sipping coffee, and the peace and sense of home is...intense. The silence that a snowstorm brings surrounds the house. The grandkids are blessedly asleep. I have a dog at my feet, and Babygirl has one at her side. (The little Basshole is sleeping upstairs, anything but sweet smelling. She helped clean up a small spill of THC oil yesterday and has alternatively been unconscious, paranoid-high and/or vomiting &etc. There is a bath in her immediate future once she regains some coordination.)
I have so, so much to be grateful for. We didn't accidentally kill the dog last night. I have a home that can be reconfigured to fit in those who need a place. I have caring family, a fantastic workplace, and everyone I love is NOT in a hospital right now.
And sweet, clean, warm flannel sheets.
DeeDee
