Outside the window, it is grey, darkish and chill. Judy Collins is playing on my Echo [Alexa! Play Judy Collins! And she does.]. It is the day after Thanksgiving, the kind of day to curl up with a good book, a blanket and a fire, which I will do after finishing this missive.
My friend, Sarah, sent me something she had received from one of her dearest friends, who now lives in a Buddhist monastery. “May you enjoy a peaceful day of gratitude for everything that is good and right in the world.”
A great thought for the day after Thanksgiving. There is, after all, much that is not right in the world.
The list of things wrong in this world is endless.
And so, too, is the list of all the things right in the world. When I wake in the morning, I do my best to take a moment to be grateful that I have awakened, that I live, that I am surrounded these days by the soft winter beauty that is my little patch of earth.
Yesterday, Lionel, Pierre, their dog, Marcel, and I wandered up the road to Larry and Alicia’s home, with a view down to the Hudson River. We ate, drank, were merry, and grateful and then gathered around the baby grand piano and Lionel “bashed” out tunes to which all but me sang along. I cannot carry a tune; sitting instead on the sofa, I listened with joy.
We stayed last night at the Keene Farm, Larry and Alicia’s guest house, a wonderful, smaller house than their home at Mill Brook Farm, which is the main residence. That is a house with its foundations in the Dutch settlers in the 1600’s, added onto in the 18th Century, restored in the 20th, added onto again in the 21st. As we left there today, I was thinking I have what I have and I am happy with what I have, content in this third act time.
One of the things I have in this world are wonderful friends.
On Holidays, I have a tradition of texting everyone I have texted in the last year with a “Happy Thanksgiving” or a “Merry Christmas” or “Happy New Year.” Yesterday, my friend Jeffrey texted back he was grateful I was in his life and tears sprung to my eyes. We’ve known each other a long time; been a constant in each other’s lives. It felt so good to know.
Kevin, my nephew, texted me that he loved me as did my godson. Smiles played on my lips. Two such wonderful men; so lucky to have them in my life.
After last night’s feast, we brunched today at the Keene Farm; Lionel and I cooked while Pierre walked, Marcel sniffing around, enjoying the wonders of a new place.
The world is scary. Terrible things are happening and I know that. I am sourly aware that a bomb exploded yesterday in Baghdad, killing Iranian pilgrims. In Iran, a train derailment took 43 lives. Refugees are pawns in the political war of wills between the EU and Turkey.
And outside my window, the Claverack Creek slowly makes it way to the pond at the edge of Jim Ivory’s land, full this year of geese, after their absence for nearly five years. It feels a little order has returned to the universe.
Yesterday, a bald eagle swooped up the creek and took momentary residence on a tree limb across from my window. Then he spread his wings wide and soared up creek, to the north, seeking I know not what.
The bald eagle, symbol of the American Republic, a troubled Republic we all know, yet I quote my great friend Jan Hummel: we will survive this. We survived Warren G. Harding, after all, and Grover Cleveland, who was a scoundrel of the worst sort.
Google it…
Dried, dead leaves scatter my deck, an Adirondack chair sits looking lonely over the creek, the dull grey of the skies has continued now for two days. Now I am listening to Joan Baez, thinking back, gratefully, to those days in my youth when I first heard Judy Collins and Joan Baez.
We are all tender right now. Being grateful for the good things in our lives will help us heal, I think.
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Tags: Alexa, Alicia Vergara, Baghdad Bombing, Bald Eagle, Buddhism, Claverack Creek, Echo, Healing, Iran, Iranian Train Crash, Joan Baez, Judy Collins, Kevin Malone, Larry Divney, Lionel White, Paul Geffre, Pierre Font, Sarah Malone
This entry was posted on November 25, 2016 at 9:09 pm and is filed under 2016 Election, Claverack, Columbia County, Daesh, Entertainment, European Refugee Crisis, Iran, IS, Life, Literature, Mat Tombers, Mathew Tombers, Media, Mideast, Political, Political Commentary, Social Commentary, Syrian Refugee Crisis, Trump, Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
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Letter from the Vineyard 
Letter From Claverack 11 25 2016 Thankfulness after Thanksgiving…
Outside the window, it is grey, darkish and chill. Judy Collins is playing on my Echo [Alexa! Play Judy Collins! And she does.]. It is the day after Thanksgiving, the kind of day to curl up with a good book, a blanket and a fire, which I will do after finishing this missive.
My friend, Sarah, sent me something she had received from one of her dearest friends, who now lives in a Buddhist monastery. “May you enjoy a peaceful day of gratitude for everything that is good and right in the world.”
A great thought for the day after Thanksgiving. There is, after all, much that is not right in the world.
The list of things wrong in this world is endless.
And so, too, is the list of all the things right in the world. When I wake in the morning, I do my best to take a moment to be grateful that I have awakened, that I live, that I am surrounded these days by the soft winter beauty that is my little patch of earth.
Yesterday, Lionel, Pierre, their dog, Marcel, and I wandered up the road to Larry and Alicia’s home, with a view down to the Hudson River. We ate, drank, were merry, and grateful and then gathered around the baby grand piano and Lionel “bashed” out tunes to which all but me sang along. I cannot carry a tune; sitting instead on the sofa, I listened with joy.
We stayed last night at the Keene Farm, Larry and Alicia’s guest house, a wonderful, smaller house than their home at Mill Brook Farm, which is the main residence. That is a house with its foundations in the Dutch settlers in the 1600’s, added onto in the 18th Century, restored in the 20th, added onto again in the 21st. As we left there today, I was thinking I have what I have and I am happy with what I have, content in this third act time.
One of the things I have in this world are wonderful friends.
On Holidays, I have a tradition of texting everyone I have texted in the last year with a “Happy Thanksgiving” or a “Merry Christmas” or “Happy New Year.” Yesterday, my friend Jeffrey texted back he was grateful I was in his life and tears sprung to my eyes. We’ve known each other a long time; been a constant in each other’s lives. It felt so good to know.
Kevin, my nephew, texted me that he loved me as did my godson. Smiles played on my lips. Two such wonderful men; so lucky to have them in my life.
After last night’s feast, we brunched today at the Keene Farm; Lionel and I cooked while Pierre walked, Marcel sniffing around, enjoying the wonders of a new place.
The world is scary. Terrible things are happening and I know that. I am sourly aware that a bomb exploded yesterday in Baghdad, killing Iranian pilgrims. In Iran, a train derailment took 43 lives. Refugees are pawns in the political war of wills between the EU and Turkey.
And outside my window, the Claverack Creek slowly makes it way to the pond at the edge of Jim Ivory’s land, full this year of geese, after their absence for nearly five years. It feels a little order has returned to the universe.
Yesterday, a bald eagle swooped up the creek and took momentary residence on a tree limb across from my window. Then he spread his wings wide and soared up creek, to the north, seeking I know not what.
The bald eagle, symbol of the American Republic, a troubled Republic we all know, yet I quote my great friend Jan Hummel: we will survive this. We survived Warren G. Harding, after all, and Grover Cleveland, who was a scoundrel of the worst sort.
Google it…
Dried, dead leaves scatter my deck, an Adirondack chair sits looking lonely over the creek, the dull grey of the skies has continued now for two days. Now I am listening to Joan Baez, thinking back, gratefully, to those days in my youth when I first heard Judy Collins and Joan Baez.
We are all tender right now. Being grateful for the good things in our lives will help us heal, I think.
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Tags: Alexa, Alicia Vergara, Baghdad Bombing, Bald Eagle, Buddhism, Claverack Creek, Echo, Healing, Iran, Iranian Train Crash, Joan Baez, Judy Collins, Kevin Malone, Larry Divney, Lionel White, Paul Geffre, Pierre Font, Sarah Malone
This entry was posted on November 25, 2016 at 9:09 pm and is filed under 2016 Election, Claverack, Columbia County, Daesh, Entertainment, European Refugee Crisis, Iran, IS, Life, Literature, Mat Tombers, Mathew Tombers, Media, Mideast, Political, Political Commentary, Social Commentary, Syrian Refugee Crisis, Trump, Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.