Hidden Southern Culture by Maribeth Shanley

I’ve lived in the south for half my life. In the depths of my heart, I have never liked the southern environment.

For many southern whites, racism and hatred, coupled with a suspicion of different people are alive and well. That suspicion and hatred are evident when another white person looks your way and rolls her eyes at an old black man sitting on a bench in front of a grocery store. As a gesture of agreement, I presume the recipient is supposed to respond with a similar eye roll. When I encountered such a glance, I returned a glare of disdain at the woman who quickly looked away then scurried to the parking lot.

Then, there are all those sneaky racist ploys on the part of southern GOP candidates as they gerrymander their districts to cut out the black voters from their district, ensuring they will win the vote. In South Carolina, for a Democrat, that devious white southern culture shows through at the voting booth, when, as a first time SC voter, you realize your choice is to either vote for the Republican or abstain from voting for most local seats. Too, voter suppression is obvious when town mayors shut down the Sunday polls during an election, thus, curtailing the Souls to the Polls vote where preachers load their congregation onto buses and drive them to the polls so they can vote.

Most of my time in the south, I lived in Tennessee. Racism was evident, especially with the display of the Confederate flag. The excuse for openly touting the symbol was wrapped up in the rationalization of a demonstration of one’s southern heritage. My skin crawls when I see that symbol of oppression whose history included lynchings.

I once wrote a Letter to the Editor of THE TENNESSEAN about the heritage equation. In that letter, I compared the impact of the flag for blacks with the impact of the Nazi flag for Jews. The day my letter was published, I received several hateful phone calls from males identifying themselves as Sons of the Confederacy. I also received a letter from a woman who thanked me for making the comparison as she had always discussed her southern heritage in the same manner. She wrote that now she understood and promised never to make that comparison again.

Living in Tennessee was tough enough. However, the real challenge has been my life in South Carolina, the first State to secede from the United States of America. The South Carolina Declaration of Secession stated that the reason for secession had to do with the issue of slavery which the wealthy planter class was not willing to relinquish. I searched the internet for that Secession statement shortly after moving to South Carolina. I did because I knew in my heart that there was a hidden darkness which still exists here.

I also began to detect that there was a hidden culture rich in history and tradition that existed. I could feel it in the small southern towns. So I began to explore that culture only to find that it had a lot to do with a particular crop grown in Antebellum South Carolina.

During the colonial period, Coastal Carolina was the largest producer of rice in America, and it happened by accident.

Around the year 1685, a ship sailing from Madagascar was caught in a fierce storm off the coast of South Carolina. The ship sought refuge in the Charleston Harbor. While being repaired the ship’s captain met a prominent planter who was known to be the first English settler in the Charleston area. The captain and the gentleman, Henry Woodard, spent time discussing commerce. When the ship was repaired, and the captain and crew were to make their way to their original destination, the captain gave a bag of rice to Woodard who experimented with the rice. The resulting crop was so good that shortly after rice became the main cash crop for the Coastal river plantations of South Carolina.

Rice farming was labor intensive. It required workers who not only possess knowledge of the land but of the cultivation of the rice crop. Growing and harvesting required all this and lots of free labor working long, painful hours to keep the planter class living the lives of luxury to which they were accustomed. Thus, the planters needed an African for the plantations specializing in rice growing. Coastal West African soil was similar to that of Coastal South Carolina. The Coastal West African tribes were expert rice farmers. They became the target of capture as they were kidnapped then transported to South Carolina.

As I began to explore my surroundings, I soon discovered a people rich in culture and color. The culture is called Gullah. The color is the many art forms that came out of that cultivation of rice.

The modern Gullah people are the descendants of the enslaved Africans brought to the Low-Country of South Carolina for rice cultivation. Slave traders kidnapped individuals from a wealth of different ethnic groups throughout the Coastal areas of West Africa. Communication became a challenge for the slaves. Thus, a creole language called the Gullah language was born. The language influenced by a culture rich in African influences defined the uniqueness of the Gullah people. This distinction has become a badge of pride for the descendants as they carried on many of the traditions by turning them into an art.

Sweetgrass Simple        Sweetgrass Intricate     Sweetgrass Elaborate

In particular is the Sweetgrass Baskets woven mainly by females and sold to the public. Every artist brings her distinct technique to the art form.

The original “coiled” baskets brought over on the slave ships were called fanner baskets. The slaves used them to inspect the rice. The baskets were critical tools of rice production and processing. As time went on the techniques of basket weaving was passed down to descendants who turned the tool into individual expressions of art. These baskets now grace homes and museums around the world. They are purchased for their beauty and displayed in museums as a tribute to the rich culture of people stolen from their homes and brought over in chains only to serve as free labor for a class of wealthy white plantation owners. The baskets range in price and design. A small, simple basket could cost as little as $50 while an intricately designed basket could cost as much as several hundreds of dollars. Although the artist ensures the purchaser that the basket is a functional one, most basket owners place their basket(s) in their homes to be admired for the beauty of their art and artist.

Footnote: Rice remained a dominant crop for South Carolina up until the end of the Civil War. With the Emancipation came a fast decline of the wealthy rice economy. Without the free labor of slaves, rice plantations were unsustainable. In the early 1900’s rice farming disappeared from South Carolina.

 

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Taking “J” Things With Gratitude by Pat Bertram

When it comes to life the critical thing is whether you take things for granted or take them with gratitude. ~~ G. K. Chesterton

Just because Thanksgiving is over and November gone, there is no reason to stop being grateful, so I am going to continue with my alphabet of gratitude. Since today is the tenth such post of this surge of gratitude, I am giving thanks for “J” things. Well, one “J” thing.

I am especially grateful for:

100_1807aJeff. Although I never took Jeff — my life mate/soul mate — for granted, somehow I always took for granted that we’d be together. Even while he was dying, I took for granted that such was the way things always would be — he dying, me struggling to live. And even at the end, I took for granted that somehow he’d still be in my life, as if he would be in another room, perhaps. After he took his last breath, I was stunned by the absolute feeling of “goneness” I felt. It wasn’t as if he were in another room. It was as if an immense crater had been dug out of my life, my heart, my soul, leaving behind . . . nothing.

Even though I don’t feel him in my life any more, even though I can barely remember what our shared life was like, I always take him for gratitude. I am grateful I knew him, grateful (and honored) that he shared his life and death with me, grateful I once was so connected to another human being that his death left a hole in my life that will never be filled. I am grateful for every shared smile, every hug, every act of caring. I am grateful I found someone who understood me and knew what I meant when I spoke.

I am grateful for our electric conversations that lasted hours, days, a lifetime. We didn’t try to convince the other of our position — we each brought truth and thought to the conversation, and together we created a greater reality. There was no reason to argue — it was never about his opinion versus mine. It was about the truth — the truth as far as we could reconstruct it together. And oh, I am so grateful for that truth!

I am grateful for the time he spent with me. I am grateful for the movies we watched together, the books we shared, the ideas we developed, the businesses we created. I am grateful he stayed with me as long as possible, long enough to say everything that needed to be said.

I am grateful he set me free. I might have had to spend the rest of my years caring for a helpless invalid, but he left my life as quickly and as gracefully as he entered — between one heartbeat and the next.

I am even grateful he set me on my current path. He once told me it bothered him that because of his illness and our constrained lives, I’d lost the spontaneity I once had (ironically, that spontaneity had come from the security his presence engendered in me). I am now trying to get back that spontaneity, and will spend the rest of my life as untethered as possible.

I am grateful I once was loved. I am grateful I loved.

I am grateful that Jeff was such a major part of my life.

So, what “J” things are you taking for gratitude today?

***
Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Madame ZeeZee’s Nightmare, Light BringerMore Deaths Than OneA Spark of Heavenly Fireand Daughter Am IBertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.

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The End of NaNo by LV Gaudet

Photo by Al x on Unsplash

Photo by Al x on Unsplash

National Novel Writing Month has come quivering to a close.  We lay down our exhausted pens, pencils, laptops, and other writing tools, take a long sigh, and rub our weary foreheads.

It is done.  As of midnight tonight, wherever you are, this chapter is closed.

We laughed, cried, and groaned at our writing ineptitude.  We spent hours feverishly pushing our writing abilities to the limit, staring in mute despair at the page before us with bleakly blank minds for even more hours.

Our stories soured and then soured.  Words turned cryptic and characters spouted overlong speeches, the words pouring from their mouths as if vomited in a panic to get words on the page.

We revelled in the thrilling flow of action pouring from us, uncertain where in our imagination it is coming from.  We bowed our heads in deference to the darkness oozing from our fingers onto the page, the love, the laughs, and the diabolical diatribes.

Now that it is done we move on.

Validated to confirm your wretched loss or your voracious victory, you pour yourself a stout glass of wine, brandy, vodka, hot cocoa, or whatever it is that soothes your now shredded soul.

Take a hot bath with soothing mineral oils, bubbles, a warmed brandy, chocolate, soothing music, and a good book.

Tomorrow you can resume the normality of daily life glowing in the aftermath that whether or not you reached that 50,000 word score, you did it.  You faced NaNoWriMo and stared it straight in its insidious eye.  You stared down the gullet of a veritably impenetrable goal.  You did what your friends, family, co-workers, and loved ones feel is incomprehensible, dedicating your soul for thirty days to something that will always  make you a little mysterious to them.  Something they likely will never truly understand.

What comes next?

Now that normality settles on your life and you perhaps feel a little empty for leaving that part of you behind, you ask yourself a simple question.

Now what?

Keep writing.  You don’t have to push. The drive of the impossible no longer hangs over you.  Take what you learned about yourself over the past thirty days, the newfound ability to find the writing spark on demand, or keep working to discover that ability if you are still struggling with it, and just enjoy the writing.  Let yourself gently guide your story to completion on your timetable.

Come January and February, the ‘Now What?’ months, it is time to follow the pledge you will now make to yourself and the NaNoNite community.  The pledge to not abandon what you just wrote with wanton abandon.  Come January and February embrace your work and dig in with both feet and your hands as you rip and shred it into a new masterpiece through editing both savage and refined.  It is revision time!

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Why I’m Thankful that Writing is Good Therapy by Sherrie Hansen

Fine. I’ll admit it. Starting with my poetry writing days in the 1970s, I’ve worked through “issues” with old boyfriends, bosses, co-workers, ex-spouses, family members, random acquaintances and people I once considered friends by writing – most recently, using my imagination to transform them into hopefully unrecognizable characters in my books who can then be tortured, punished, rewarded, inappropriately loved and even killed.

Writing therapy is a wonderful by-product of being an author. With apologies to my brother, the psychologist, I believe it’s saved me thousands of dollars in counseling fees.

Dad - creek

Seriously, though – this Thanksgiving, I have many reasons for which to be thankful. I also have cause to grieve, having just lost my beloved father to leukemia on November 7th. My month has been filled with final foot rubs, long remembered conversations, and last words. My time has been taken up, not writing or trying to make a daily word count, but sleeping beside my Dad in the double recliner, rubbing his arm in the night when he didn’t feel well, and talking about “things” when one or the other of us couldn’t sleep.

Dad - daybreak

Days were filled with driving Dad around to his favorite farms so he could watch my brother bring the harvest in – for the first time, without him.

Dad - harvest

After Dad made the transition to his new home in heaven (which I truly believe is trimmed out in cherry wood, with crown moldings and one-of-a-kind solid wood doors that have a few knots, because while most people consider them a flaw, Dad thought they were “beauty-ful”), my days were spent rounding up a bluegrass band to play “Life is Like a Mountain Railway” at his funeral, making 18 dozen eggs into Hansen family sanctioned egg salad, and proofing Dad’s obituary and memorial flyers.

Dad - grandkids

I wouldn’t have missed a single moment that transpired or a single word that passed between us.

Earlier this fall, I fully intended to do NaNoWriMo, a writing challenge that asks you to commit to writing 1667 words a day for the month of November for a total of 50,000, or in my case, half of a book.

About the time my brothers and sister and I held a “Funeral Rehearsal” party for Dad that was attended by almost 250 people (at his request – he kept saying it was too bad he had to miss his funeral because the bluegrass music was going to be good, and he would like to see all his friends), I designed a mockup of a book cover and wrote a synopsis for Seaside Daisy.

Seaside Daisy

I’ve accomplished my NaNoWriMo goal for the last two years with Sweet William and Golden Rod and assumed I would do the same this year. But Seaside Daisy had nothing to do with Dad, and he’s all I can think about. Dad had never been to Ireland, where it’s set. He’s never lived by the sea, and to be honest, he probably would have thought Daisy was a flake.

Daybreak in Denmark

On November 22, I made a new cover file and wrote a new synopsis for Daybreak in Denmark, a long-planned but still unwritten sequel to my first novel, Night and Day. It’s the right book for a time such as this. Dad was half Danish and traveled to the island of Als almost 20 years ago to search for his extended family, who we’ lost touch with after World War II. If Dad was still alive, I could ask him about the farming bits, and reminisce about the interesting things we did in Denmark.

Dad - porch swing

The father figure in both Night and Day and Daybreak in Denmark is a dear man, a retired farmer with a fun sense of humor. It will be my honor to incorporate snippets of my Dad’s jokes and quirky Minnesota ways into this book.

Dad - combines

As an added bonus, Jensen has a cantankerous stepchild to contend with in this book. Why this will be therapeutic for me is a whole other story, and one I shouldn’t go into here. But trust me, this character is going to be a well-drawn, expertly crafted antagonist.

If you’ve lost a loved one recently or need to work through another sort of emotional issue over the holidays, I highly recommend writing. Get it out. Put it into words, or at least try. Journal, blog, or write a letter to the person you’re having troubles with and then tear it up or throw it in the fire. Whatever. Writing about it helps.

Dad - funeral spray

I’m thankful I got to spend as much time with my Dad as I did. I’m grateful for the hugs, loving words, and other expressions of sympathy shown to me, my husband and my family since his death. I’m grateful to have been raised and loved by a man who taught me so much – by word and example. My dad wasn’t a writer, or even a good reader, but he was a great storyteller. He was also an expert at repurposing rejected “stuff”, and a talented creator of beauty-ful things. I miss him so much, but I treasure my memories and the gifts that he gave me, and for that, I am truly thankful.

Dad - casket

 

Sherrie Hansen’s Bio:
Twenty-six years ago, with the help of her dad, Sherrie rescued a dilapidated Victorian house in Northern Iowa from the bulldozer’s grips and turned it into a bed and breakfast and tea house, the Blue Belle Inn.  After 12 years of writing romance novels, Sherrie met and married her real-life hero, Mark Decker, a pastor. They now spend their time in 2 different houses, 85 miles apart, and Sherrie writes on the run whenever she has a spare minute. Sherrie enjoys playing the piano, photography, traveling, and going on weekly adventures with her nieces and nephew. “Golden Rod” is Sherrie’s 10th book to be published by Indigo Sea Press, a mid-sized, independent press out of Winston Salem, NC.
You can find more information about Sherrie Hansen here:

WEBSITE  http://BlueBelleBooks.com  or http://BlueBelleInn.com

BLOG  https://sherriehansen.wordpress.com/

Twitter https://twitter.com/SherrieHansen

Facebook http://www.facebook.com/SherrieHansenAuthor 

Goodreads  http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2870454.Sherrie_Hansen

Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/author/sherriehansen

Pinterest  https://www.pinterest.com/sherriebluebell/

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Taking “I” Things With Gratitude by Pat Bertram

When it comes to life the critical thing is whether you take things for granted or take them with gratitude. ~~ G. K. Chesterton

For the past few days, I have been taking many things for gratitude. Since today is the ninth day of this surge of gratitude, I am giving thanks for “I” things.

I am especially grateful for:

Intangibles. The intangible things of life — those things we cannot touch or feel or own — make life worth living. Intangibles such as honor and hope, friendship and kindness, knowledge and perception. We often take these intangible things for granted, so today, I am taking them for gratitude, offering up thanks for all the wonderful intangibles that enrich our lives.

Integrity. We often hear that people have no honor or integrity, that we can’t trust anyone, and yet the truth is, most of us do have integrity. Barbara Killinger defined integrity as “a personal choice, an uncompromising and predictably consistent commitment to honour moral, ethical, spiritual and artistic values and principles.” I have made such a choice, and so have most people. So today, I have the integrity to say I am taking integrity for gratitude.

Inquisitiveness. I have an inquisitive nature, an insatiable thirst for truth. I often take this inquisitiveness for granted, but it has led me to awesome truths and glorious insights. (Insights is another I word for which to be grateful!) So today I will take my inquisitiveness for gratitude.

Indulgence. Too much indulgence can be a bad thing, making us fat and sick and miserable and integrity-less, but being able to indulge ourselves is something to be grateful for, especially today of all days.

Happy Thanksgiving!

***
Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Madame ZeeZee’s Nightmare, Light BringerMore Deaths Than OneA Spark of Heavenly Fireand Daughter Am IBertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.

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Taking “H” Things With Gratitude by Pat Bertram

When it comes to life the critical thing is whether you take things for granted or take them with gratitude. ~~ G. K. Chesterton

Since today is the eighth day of my current surge of gratitude, I am giving thanks for “H” things.

I am especially grateful for:

Broken heartHeart. All kinds of heart. The compassion, tenderness, and forgiveness we feel for others. The spirit, bravery, and desire that help us overcome unfavorable odds. The essence of us as humans. The muscle that keeps blood flowing through our veins and arteries. The symbol — so simple and elegant, even a child can draw it. We take all of these sorts of heart for granted, and yet they are all things to be taken with gratitude.

Healing. We often take healing for granted, which makes sense since the healing processes of body, mind, and soul all take place out of sight. And yet, for most of us, those healing processes work even when we aren’t aware of them, keeping our bodies well, putting things right when we get sick, helping to mend our grief-stricken hearts. This is something to be grateful for.

Hope. Even when it feels as if we have no hope, generally, we still have the hope of a new day, better times, someone or something to love.

High places. Seeing the world from high places — lofty peaks, tall buildings, towers, Ferris wheels — puts our lives in perspective and gives us a feeling of expansiveness as if nothing can go wrong in a world with such wonderful and far-sighted views.

H. Even the letter H itself is a something to be grateful for — it’s very shape is like the first step of a ladder, the ladder to healing, hope, and high places.

So, what “H” things are you taking for gratitude today?

***
Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Madame ZeeZee’s Nightmare, Light BringerMore Deaths Than OneA Spark of Heavenly Fireand Daughter Am IBertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.

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Taking “G” Things With Gratitude by Pat Bertram

When it comes to life the critical thing is whether you take things for granted or take them with gratitude. ~~ G. K. Chesterton

Since today is the seventh day of my current surge of gratitude, I am giving thanks for “G” things.

I am especially grateful for grief and the gifts that grief brings.

Grief seems a strange thing for which to be grateful, but I am truly grateful that I experienced such deep grief after the death of my life mate/soul mate. He was a special man, someone who knew how to appreciate even the littlest thing, and I am grateful I was able to show the world how much he would be missed by writing about the grief he left behind. My grief was a way of appreciating him, honoring him, proving that even though he lived a private life, his life had worth to others.

I am grateful, of course, that the pain of my grief is gone, leaving only an underlying sorrow, but more than that, I am grateful for all I learned from the process. I have been able to sense the workings of my lizard brain — my body’s mind as opposed to “my” mind. I have experienced the miracle of body memory, where my body remembers a special date and mourns it even though I had forgotten it. I have learned patience, have experienced the incredible mystery of life, have touched eternity. Because the pain of grief over his death was so profound that I never even knew there could be such pain, I have come to realize that there is way more to us than we ever imagined. As Marianne Williamson wrote, “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.”

Grief has also taught me to be grateful for life’s gifts — the friendships that sail into our life, the mystical moments and connections, the chance to experience the world through our senses, the capacity for appreciation, the ability to think and the power to feel thoughts too deep to put into words.

So, what “G” things are you taking for gratitude today?

***
Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Madame ZeeZee’s Nightmare, Light BringerMore Deaths Than OneA Spark of Heavenly Fireand Daughter Am IBertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.

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Taking “F” Things With Gratitude by Pat Bertram

When it comes to life the critical thing is whether you take things for granted or take them with gratitude. ~~ G. K. Chesterton

Since today is the sixth day of my current surge of gratitude, I am giving thanks for “F” things.

Even though we often take family and friends for granted, we do stop occasionally to take them for gratitude, so I am not adding them to this list. I’m more interested in giving thanks for things I’ve never stopped to think about before.

I am especially grateful for:

fingersFingers: I remember the first time I realized my now deceased life mate/soul mate was as interested in me as I was in him. I was in his health food store, and while he was handing me a bottle of vitamin A, our fingers happened to touch. I can still feel the glow from that touch today. Fingers aren’t just a way of connecting with others, but are a way of connecting to the world — through the touch of a petal, the touch of a thorn — but are also a way of connecting to ourselves through the things we create — art, meals, a home. I am especially grateful for my fingers considering the terrible fall I had a year ago that pulverized my elbow, wrist, radius. I still do not have the full use of my fingers, but I am exceedingly grateful for the use I do have.

Feet: Feet keep us connected to this earth. Feet allow us to walk, to move, to dance. Feet are a miracle in and of themselves. Each foot contains 26 bones, and those 52 bones makes up about 25% of the total bones in our bodies. Each foot also contains 33 joints, 107 ligaments, 19 muscles and tendons. A true miracle, and something to take for gratitude with every step.

Fate: Whether or not one believes in fate, certain times in our lives do feel fated. In my case, I walked into a health food store one Saturday morning, and there I met the man I would spend the next 34 years with. He died early one Saturday morning, (just after midnight Friday night). That seems fated, too. To come into my life and leave it on the same day of the week.

Failure. I don’t take ever failure for granted, but I never stop to give thanks for the failures that have taught me valuable lessons, such as to pick myself up and try even harder.

Feasts: We so often take feasts for granted, but this month especially, I will be taking feasts for gratitude. I might not be having a Thanksgiving feast, but when we are alive, any meal is truly a feast.

So, what “F” things are you taking for gratitude today?

***
Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Madame ZeeZee’s Nightmare, Light BringerMore Deaths Than OneA Spark of Heavenly Fireand Daughter Am IBertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.

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Taking “E” Things With Gratitude by Pat Bertram

When it comes to life the critical thing is whether you take things for granted or take them with gratitude. ~~ G. K. Chesterton

Since today is the fifth day of my current surge of gratitude, I am giving thanks for “E” things.

I am especially grateful for:

Ears. Ears to hear music, laughter, the voices of loved ones. Earlobes from which to dangle beautiful earrings.

Energy. Even when we feel as if we have no energy, we have enough energy to keep our bodies working. And the days when we do feel as if we have energy to spare — what a joy! And despite all the problems that the various sources of energy to keep our houses and cities alive, we still do have energy enough to drive to where we need to go, to warm our homes in the winter and cool them in the summer, energy enough to light the darkness. So, today I will not take energy for granted, but will give thanks for all the energy that comes my way.

Entertainment and enjoyment. We have come a long way from the days when weS humans had to provide our own entertainment, whether telling stories around a community fire, dancing in a neighbor’s barn, or playing musical instruments in a parlor. Now we have instant entertainment, ready for our enjoyment at any time.

Eyes. Eyes to see light and beautiful sites, to see smiling faces, to read print on a page or a reading device.

Eyeglasses. I am especially grateful for eyeglasses, though I tend to take them for granted since they have been perched on my nose (or rather sliding down my nose) since I was ten. Without eyeglasses, I see lights as sparkling gems with halos of brightness, but they are about the only thing I can see better without glasses, so I today I will take my eyeglasses with so very much gratitude.

So, what “E” things are you taking for gratitude today?

***

See also:
Taking “A” Things With Gratitude, Taking “B” Things With Gratitude, Taking “C” Things With Gratitude,Taking “D” Things With Gratitude

***
Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Madame ZeeZee’s Nightmare, Light BringerMore Deaths Than OneA Spark of Heavenly Fireand Daughter Am IBertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.

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Taking “D” Things With Gratitude by Pat Bertram

When it comes to life the critical thing is whether you take things for granted or take them with gratitude. ~~ G. K. Chesterton

Since today is the fourth day of my current surge of gratitude, I am giving thanks for “D” things.

I dancingam especially grateful for:

Deserts and dessert and the discernment to know the difference.

The desire and determination, the dedication and daring to go after our dreams.

Dawn and daylight, dusk and dazzling sunsets.

Dear and darling and other doting endearments.

Discussions, deliberation, the ability to defend our ideas.

And dancing, of course.

So, what “D” things are you taking for gratitude today?

***

See also:
Taking “A” Things With Gratitude, Taking “B” Things With Gratitude, Taking “C” Things With Gratitude

***
Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Madame ZeeZee’s Nightmare, Light BringerMore Deaths Than OneA Spark of Heavenly Fireand Daughter Am IBertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.

 

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