I give thanks when you scream in a dream it can be hard to make a sound. I've been plagued with nightmares recently and it's bad enough them disturbing me without waking everyone else in the building. I give thanks for my earplugs to soften the sounds that bug me - the TV above my head, the squawking kids and yapping dogs, slamming doors and footballs on the carpark, footsteps on the stairs.
I give thanks for Mima offering to do more washing, and for getting a lift down the hill when she came to collect it. Despite my sore joints, I'd thought a stroll might do me good but the promenade and seawall were teeming with folk taking their seasonal walks so I soon plodded back up it. I give thanks for seeing families apparently having fun, and for remembering however miserable a period this may be for me for many it is a time of festivity and pleasure.
I give thanks for a pot of Patak's Korma paste and persevering in turning some elderly vegetables into a passable meal with quorn. For having a go at cleaning the mildew off the kitchen wall while it cooked, but with less success.
I give thanks that Julie didn't get the memo about me not needing any books this Christmas and giving me one. I've hardly put it down!
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