it's that time again. When one trudges up and down the stairs, tucking away the winter things and bringing summer goods back into the sunlight. It's a good time to step back take stock. Sometimes it's too easy to see just misshapen beads and broken edges, and thus miss the story behind the whole mosaic.

Really, I have all that I need. Despite all the messages that I do not.

A kitchen that is cozy and warm, scented bitter and strong by coffee. Maybe a cookie. Maybe two.

A good book. And the time to read it. A brain to see the woes of the world. And a heart to do something to salve them.

Muscles that flex and strain and propel me along. And aching bones to remind me of my frail humanity.

A dog who declares I am perfect.

One friend to tell me I am brave. Another to say I am beautiful. And several to hold me tight when I feel like neither.

One to urge me to be more. And one to give permission to do less.

Cheeseburgers. Always, cheeseburgers. 

A garden that is willing to be wild and neglected. And a house that is tidy and safe.

And a day that is rainy or sunny or warming or cold to offer time to be thankful for all my riches. The pattern isn't perfect. It's not what I expected. And some of the bits are a bit dented and wobbly, but my mosaic is mine and it's a thing of great beauty.