#ThankfulThursday | I hate the world today

Tuesday was a not-good one. The day's events weren't particularly traumatizing, I was just experiencing run-of-the-mill, living-induced upheaval, worry, and loss. I did a lot of driving on Tuesday, that noon without any passengers, having dropped the boy with Grandma and making my way back home to drop something off for Wolfman. I'm keen on driving alone--day, night, rain, shine, with or without musical accompaniment. On Tuesday, it was with, specifically, with a local radio station that does an hour long, commercial-free block of 90s music every day at noon. As soon as I revved up Brunhilde for our journey, the radio played "Rump Shaker," and the crowd-pleasers kept coming--some Lemonheads, some Rembrandts. And then, Meredith Brooks' "Bitch" came on the air, and I sang along to every word.  I had no idea I even knew every word, and I giggled heartily after the first chorus. I was downright giddy; I felt free and green and, yes, empowered. Sure, even that. In those three minutes, I was so grateful to be exactly where I was--in my husband's old beast of a vehicle, with the air-conditioning blasting, and that stupid radio station playing that maudlin song, alone, on an otherwise bad day.

I am grateful for:

• a farm-stand bought cantaloupe and the way it stinks up the car
• Martigan asking me in a complete(ish) sentence (which have been few so far) one morning while we wait on the Apex Historical Society caboose for the morning's CSX train, "Want lap... when train comes" (translation: "Mommy, when the train comes by can I please sit in your lap, because this is special to me, and I love you so much.")
• herby goodness at the breakfast table--Wolfman's homemade tabouli and mint leaves in my water glass
• the Food Lion employee who offers Mads a cookie with pink frosting and then gives one to me, too.
• Mads asking, "You alright, Papa?" when Wolfman's face is covered with soapy suds while he washes up.
• Mandi Line, costume designer of Pretty Little Liars (so much pretty!)
• that moment when Martigan's body finally goes limp with sleep after throwing the most intense before-nap tantrum
• the cold can of Dr. Pepper Wolfman buys me from a vending machine as we're leaving Wal-Mart, the discount armpit of the Universe, so American, even though I can only drink a few sips of it.
• the waitress at Gypsy's who tells us of Mads, "he's a good talker; I've had kids, and I know--he's a good talker for his age."
• Grandma's memories of me as a child, when she tells me my son's bare legs look just like mine did when I was his age.
• being witness to the proud, happy, utterly full-of-love look on Jared's aunt Jo Beth's face as she watches her daughter, Becca, walk down the aisle to be married.

Lughnasadh, 2015

"Bitch," The Baseballs (cover)