A Little Cup of Gratitude This Morning

I had planned to write about the current COVID dryer saga unfolding but yet not unfolding here at home, but the amount of caffeine I’ve had today has prompted me to get a little bit deeper than warm, dry clothes.

Though I do love warm, dry clothes on a brisk day.

This morning was wonderful! I slept in because Saturday- no alarm because the kid is here for another weekend. I laid in bed for a while, basking in the peace and quiet of the house. I swear, you guys, waking up without an alarm and being able to lay in bed is one of life’s most underrated luxuries.

You can keep your mansions and gold toilets. Give me a morning where I have nowhere to be.

Eventually I had to break the spell and get up. My bladder wasn’t going to empty itself.

I also needed my morning tea- Tazo’s vanilla caramel chai with raw Kansas honey (from Hillside Honey Apiary) and a dash of unsweetened coconut milk.

I noticed, as I was squeezing the honey into my shuttlecock mug from the Nelson Atkins museum, that my supply was running low.

…and there was no way I was going to let myself run out before I could order more.

Yes, I can buy honey at any grocery store but it is not nearly as good as the local honey I buy.

I cannot, and will not, go back to shelf honey.

However, I don’t get paid for about a week and this paycheck had a few unexpected expenses. I’m fine financially (bills are paid and we have what we need). I just don’t like to cut it close is all.

Despite this, I went ahead and ordered 5 lbs because I knew I’d probably be out by the time it arrives.

And that would make my morning routine a little sad.

This is where I get to the point of my post.

Sipping hot, delicious tea in my chilly room was perfect. As I sat in my bed, warmed by blankets and my usual morning beverage, I thought about how privileged I am to even be able to buy honey from a farm.

A year ago, I wasn’t able to because I was trying to get back on my feet after nine months of unemployment.

It seems like such a small, trivial matter but it’s not- it’s a luxury to me to be able to buy it. Not to mention it helps support a small localish business.

And things snowballed from here.

My life, as of today, isn’t exactly what younger me had dreamed about, as I’ve mentioned in a prior post. But the kid and I are safe here with my father. We have never gone hungry. There is a sturdy roof over our heads (it’s just the back steps that are falling apart).

Dad and I had a conversation months ago, about how I have always felt like a burden because I am not financially stable enough to move out. That’s the story I told myself- not how he has ever made me feel.

He told me it’s not a burden to have us here. Because we are here with him, he knows we are safe. And as a parent, I can understand wanting to know your child/grandchild is alright.

That’s why I moved back- I knew it would be better for us here.

Somedays, when the kitchen sinks are full, the counters are covered in crumbs, and I have no idea what’s all over the inside of the bathtub (thanks, Son), I don’t always stop to remember it’s a privilege to live here.

Just as I don’t stop and consider my luck at having money left over to put into savings. To buy a new book each month. And be able to order something my teenager needs or a little something he wants.

Funny how a such a simple thing like honey can help remind you to step back and appreciate what you often take for granted.

But right now, I feel like I have everything I could ever want.

More posts to come.

Published by amberalice

Kansas Native. Knitter. Amateur photographer. Lover of love, plants, and great burritos.

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