I read an old issue of LiveHappy, the theme being gratitude, and in a list compiled to nurture one’s feelings of it is listening to this song. Oh, I love that song, I think, and intend to treat my ears to the peppy tune that day. Alas, it isn’t until I sit compiling a “hope list” in my journal this morning that KT Tunstall’s sultry voice and that song pops into my head again. There’s a poem by Frost, I think, with the line: “and that has made all the difference,” or something like that. Composing this list that grew like bamboo conjures a similar effect:

Lift the blinds to catch the dawn show = hope.

Birdsong = hope.

New pen = hope.

Decent sleep = hope.

Back yoga poses help last night = hope.

Get out of bed = hope.

Kitties follow me = hope.

Took AM meds = hope.

Will jog 5K on my rebounder tomorrow for the Vegan Global Run = hope (w/a dash of insanity).

Glimpse peachy-pink sunrise reflected in picture window opposite mine = hope.

Request renter’s insurance renewal form from my kind rep = hope.

Breenie sharpens her claws on the kitty post = hope.

Zap, atop his perch, surveying neighbors’ activities through their windows = (not creepy for a cat) and hope.

Humming “A Teaspoon of Sugar” while jogging first five minutes of the day = hope.

Actually read a “pin” on propagating basil and am trying it = hope.

The farmers’ markets open tomorrow = hope.

Mom and two blogger friends offer support and kind words = hope.

Younger sister’s wrangling a ticket for me to attend her law school graduation in May = hope.

Same sister reaches out to me out of the blue wanting to rebuild a relationship with me = hope.

Indiana Gov. Mike Pence, who I wrote in protest of his defunding prison education, overplays his discriminatory hand in passing hateful bill and proverbial shit hits the fan = karma sucks (hope).

I judge a book by its cover and discover another marvelous humorist fiction writer, Peter De Vries (no longer with us except in his impossible-to-resist reissued novels–3 of 20+–I borrow from the library), who’s giving my funny bone and lungs a workout, bless him = hope.

A “sister friend” sends me unique and sparkly cards not found in Hallmark stores because: “You deserve pretty things” = hope.

My hair’s grown out so that it saucily swishes side to side = hope.

Realization that life is simpler than I make it out to be = hope.

Lack of communication is unhealthy.

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