I give thanks for the smell of rose nag champa. There's been a new box unopened on my chest of drawers for days and still the fragrance, though faint, is in the air.
I give thanks for the Interlink driver tooting his horn and hearing it from several floors up and the other side of the building so I could go and collect medical supplies. For some forms I've been waiting for being at the post office at last.
I give thanks for increasingly discovering I've a lot less to be grateful for than I thought. Of course I liked the illusions and delusions, that's the point of them afterall is it not? But on the whole I'd rather accept I'm stuck in several sorts of big dark hole and stop believing in any ways out.
Meanwhile I give thanks to Mima for whisking me off for a quick car cream tea with a view. Although this spot is not far away it's been a while since I've been there and the memory of then was quite poignantly appropriate today...as it the nostalgic tint.
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