The truth is, my day started off badly enough yesterday that by the time I headed for school to tutor, I realized I'd better try to turn things around by counting my blessings as I walked along.
The main problem was nosebleed. Is it indoor heating? Is it the Flonase I took, briefly, on my doc's recommendation? Is it Old Age of the Nose?
Whatever it is, I can't remember having nosebleeds until a month ago, and now I've had several. Anyway, yesterday I leapt from bed determined to do my morning stretches, and instead spent the time with my nostrils pressed together with my tissue-filled left hand -- "ten minutes, and don't stop to check midway!" -- while, with my right, I scoured blood drips from my bedroom carpet.
Blood! It's awful! Sticky and thick and gushing! I think nosebleeds would be good cures for people tempted to murder.
Then later, there's the blob of rolled up kleenex sticking out of the nostrils, just in case. Not a good look for me.
Anyway, here's the positive outcome. I was thankful for the blueberries I ate for breakfast. I had thawed them from my freezer. I myself had put them in there, in the ziploc bag, after my traditional midsummer picking trip to Bybee Farms, in the shadow of Mt Si, with my pal, Dana.
That's a lot to be thankful for, all in the shape of a little round berry.
ELDER POETRY INTERLUDE: Getting Old by Jack Gilbert
10 hours ago