F ISHTRAP HOLLOW, Miss. -- Peace on earth, at least in my small corner. Outside the leaves are a brown Berber carpet across the yard, and, inside, the dogs hug the hearth of our wood-burning stove. We all linger in bed a little longer now that mornings are chilly and bones are older.
What a wonderful year this has been, with no major hurricanes battering our shore, giving the Gulf Coast a respite and chance for recovery. For calm seas -- and so many other things -- I am thankful.
I'm thankful for that Holy Trinity of Happiness: health, time and loved ones to spend it with. You might see us walking any fair day, dogs and humans, at our respective paces, together yet apart. Yellow dog Mabel rockets away after a squirrel. I stoop to pick up a red oak leaf. Pound puppy Boozoo sniffs a suspicious patch on the pavement. Don, leader of the pack, herds us up to finish the walk.
I am thankful that the elections are over, that the Democrats won and at least now there might be talk about bringing our boys home. There are parts of this world in the centuries-old habit of fighting, and nothing we can do will change that. Drop the speed limits and the thermostat; oil isn't worth dying for.
I am thankful for the opportunity to travel to France once more, to see a few of the 20,000 sycamores along the Canal du Midi, to watch a sunset from the bow of a boat in a foreign land. I am thankful for old-fashioned film and a nondigital camera to help me remember it all.
I remain thankful for books, the best way to travel on the cheap. I reread Marjorie Rawlings' "Cross Creek" this year, and I am overcome, once again, with her insight about borrowing the land and finding a home. I loved Julia Child's comparison of England and France. And I wish I'd written "Marley and Me" or "Water for Elephants."
I am so grateful that I was able to watch both my niece and nephew graduate high school, the ceremonial moment that ushers in official adulthood. They have added so much to my life. Now I can sit back and watch them tackle the world. For the way they delight and amuse me, I thank them.
I am glad Annie still writes real letters, that Anne takes pictures of our party tables, and for Beth and Frank's bounty of funny family stories. I am grateful to Terry, who loves our dogs whenever we're away, and for Sue and Luke, who love all dogs.
I am thankful for a new album that salutes Kris Kristofferson, the man who wrote soulfully about Sunday mornings and pilgrims. He and John Prine are the best songwriters since Hank.
I am glad I know Betty Douglass, and that I don't know most of the people mentioned on "Entertainment Tonight." I am grateful for the longest, most brilliant leaf season ever, and for the results from one package of Halloween in Paris pumpkin seeds. I remain thankful for Amanda's painting of a purple door.
I'm thankful for Mexican lunches with Jean, quiet suppers at home with Don, camping on Pickwick Lake and one long Sunday morning stroll in Savannah. I am grateful so many of you still read this column.
Nobody I know has a sweeter, better existence than I, or shares it with more wonderful people. I don't always act it, but I am thankful for my quiet, slothful, cozy life. I want for nothing.
Rheta Grimsley Johnson writes for King Features Syndicate.
Editorials
There is much to be thankful for
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Enthusiasm for the arts
The handful of annual concerts, festivals and special arts events that make Norman special begin today with the Luncheon on the Grass. It’s a collaboration of OU, the Firehouse, the Jacobson House, the Norman Arts Council and the ...
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Fallin proposes a flawed tax-cut plan
