Gratitude

For snowflakes that do a gnat-like hover in the air, neither up nor down, nowhere but suspended.
For your, thus far, hour and forty minute nap.
For fingers that do what my brain tells them to do.
For your shark-like attack of my breast.
For your blue slippered feet, tap dancing out your body-song on the green bottom of the exersaucer.
For a house on the other side of town, filled with mamas and babies who are our friends.
For the red, vintage 50-eras table I so love to write on at Blue Monday.
For January, panting out her last breaths.
For heat and stairs; for brown, pet-safe salt.
For my sister Martha, and her strong body.
For my body, finding its new shape again.
For a husband who loves me and who is not (to the best of my knowledge), having a steamy affair with a co-ed.
For the dream of a house.
For the wide safety net of family and friends and money and love, which is below me at all times, which means I will never starve or freeze, which means I do not have to spend days and days with those worries spinning like a marble through my head.
For can openers.
For on line recipes.
For the time to be grateful and the time to write it down.