Despite that I've been physically a tad under the weather and slightly cranky with certain family issues and have a little too much on my plate, I'm feeling inordinatly happy and grateful for my life. We've been in our new town just about 7 months and today, despite returning from the hometown of my heart, I really feel happy here. The hills are lovely and it feels open and so much less developed here. You can see a lot of sky and land. The rain has just ended and the sun is shedding this lemony light on the tree outside my window and it's gorgeous. I just did a few yoga stretches and was amazed to remember how much it helps the chronic pains in my neck from typing.
I've done three days of national novel writing month and I'm loving the fun of writing new stuff. I've been reading, working on my many work projects and I feel satisfied creatively in both right and left halves of my brain. Today I don't care at all about whether I ever publish a novel so long as I get to keep writing them. Today I am grateful for small things. My funny, loud, fat cat; the enchiladas I got downtown; finishing the puzzle this weekend with my beloved E. and playing battleship; having just enough--not so much as to feel like a gross consumer, but not so little as to feel deprived.
I'm happy. I'm lucky.