… my house is too small for more things.
… when the baby we’re hosting is still breathing in the morning.
… when next-door neighbor Dallas beats us to the shoveling.
… for neighbors and friends who love Lala (the dog) while we’re on vacation. (And she loves you back, Glenda, Veronica, and Trixie!)
… for North Minneapolis.
… when Target’s end-caps brim with clearance items.
… for our neighborhood Aldi.
… Flicka rubs my shoulders when she passes through the room.
… Napoleon Dynamite still wins a unanimous family vote. (It’s yes.)
… when other parents give my girls a ride home.
… Ricka speaks the truth into the noise, even if she stands alone.
… creativity flows from a stormy day.
… Dicka discerns the hidden pain or motivations of those around her, and she’s moved.
… Husband and I laugh together at least once a day.
… Flicka sees art in life’s shadows; her pencil ignites the mundane.
… when I’m off the hook for cooking dinner.
… The Light spilled from heaven and stepped into flesh, so we could see our way.
What are you thankful for?
*Miss an installment of the blog? Or want to catch the story from the beginning? Visit http://www.tamarajorell.com/blog-entries-by-date
*Names in this blog have been changed to protect my family, neighbors, and friends in the neighborhood, and in a nod of appreciation to the beloved Swedish author Maj Lindman, I’ve renamed my three blondies Flicka, Ricka, and Dicka.