And this morning I am grateful for...

My sweet Lily dog, play-time in the snow, warm gloves and wool socks.
Hot coffee, though I exploded its day old juices in the microwave and they taste bitter and burnt, perfect with a morsel of dark chocolate.
The lyrics of B. Dylan, images of "an egyptian ring that sparkles before she speaks;" "ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken;" "newspaper men eating candy;" "I see my light come shining from the west down to the east..."

Visions of home... in Pennsylvania: brightly painted walls and french doors, tiled bathroom floors (right now there's red shag carpet from...the 70s?), an outdoor wood furnace stoked with apple wood, lots of garden space, veggies veggies and more veggies. Bright flowers. Eccenacia. Lavender (if I can grow it). Berry bushes and fresh jam, canned goods stacked in the cellar beside Bill's homemade wine....
These visions, our rays of warmth.

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