On Thanksgiving - My Favorite Things

How many things do I have to give thanks for? Too many to list, but these are the first 58 that came to mind on Thanksgiving morning:

1. My father, who considered being a parent a serious responsibility.
2. My mother, who made my Halloween costumes, fed me, and was proud of me.
3. A high school football coach who taught me the difference between a pain and an injury.
4. Mary T. who let me touch her bare breast when I was 17.
5. 25 years in journalism, where deadlines were absolute and every tomorrow was a clean slate.
6. My first big city news director for setting standards that did not bend and for scaring me so much that I never thought twice about confronting mobsters, alligators, cobras and pissed off cops.
7. The chance to meet some of the great heroes and villains of our time.
8. Mark Knofler's guitar solos in Sultans of Swing
9. A beautiful and creative daughter with a wicked sense of humor and a remarkable son-in-law who collaborated on the production of the most beautiful granddaughter in the world.
10. A granddaughter who walks with me in the woods and whispers to the big trees.
11. The winds of fate that have blown me from city to city and career to career.
12. Being married to a woman who is strong enough to take care of herself, confident enough to have her own interests and loving enough to stay up all night with me, burning candles, drinking brandy, solving the worlds problems, and laughing.
13. The bartender at the Elephant and Castle who wouldn't serve me a Budweiser before I'd tasted the microbrews.
14. People who show honest emotions.
15. People who can argue about politics without getting angry.
16. Public Radio News, whose dedication to fairness seems to some, almost quaint
17. Leonard Cohen, Kathy Mattea, K.D. Lang and Emmy Lou Harris
18. People who have a desire to do good things, and an ego big enough to get them done.
19. The English language, which never ceases to surprise me with its wit and beauty.
20. The Oregon Writers Colony whose workshops have taught me as much about myself as they have about writing.
21. A life that has forced me to do things that frighten me.
22. Libré Office
23. People who know how to hug a friend.
24. Good stories.
25. Freshly baked bread
26. Sincere and graceful apologies
27. The Internet.
28. Café mochas on cold mornings
29. People who accept responsibility
30. The dark, salty chill of winter mornings on San Juan Island
31. Home grown spinach and onions
32. People who laugh easily, but not too easily.
33. Strangers who smile when we make eye contact on the street.
34. The smell of peppers and onions simmering in butter.
35. Smart people with southern accents.
36. Diana Krall
37. People who don't confuse facts with opinions or opinions with principles.
38. Sharing a smile with the only other person in a room who gets the joke.
39. Knowing that the thing that embarrasses me today, will be the story I will enjoy telling tomorrow.
40. People who know the difference between playing notes and making music.
41. Willie Nelson
42. A good audience
43. People who respect a good audience
44. Kevin Bacon and Fred Ward in Tremors
45. Good smile lines.
46. People who give you their best game, even if you aren't very good.
47. The warm, magical moment before sleep erases the world.
48. A life that has let me start fresh – over and over again.
49. Metaphors
50. My new running shoes that make me feel like I can fly.
51. Star lit runs on our country road.
52. The Godlike pleasure of catching a hummingbird that has flown into the house, then releasing it in the garden.
53. Inanimate objects that glow with the emotion and love that went into their creation.
54. Nutrisystems for bringing me back to my own size.
55. Living six decades without having more people discover that I've been faking it all along. 
56. A big black dog who is happy to see me, no matter what.  
57. The chance to live in one of the most beautiful places on earth in a home filled with art and books.
58. The freedom that comes with realization that life's final destination is death, so all that matters is the journey.