What a Difference a Day Makes

Life is good.

Candy cane Joe-Joes are on the shelves at Trader Joes.

Red cups are back. Red cups filled with peppermint mochas and gingerbread lattes (and even though they changed the names on me, the sentiment is the same). If I wasn't in a season of life where I was craving a little change, a little seasonal change around me, I might find it too early for the holidays to start creeping in. But right now they are totally welcome old friends. Although, really, lets be honest. I've never been one to think that the holidays creep up too soon. I am a sucker for the Christmas season, and I'm willing to squeeze out every last minute of it.

Also I've found that there are seasons in southern California, if you are looking. Trees here do change. Not with the same overwhelming, awe-inspiring beauty of the midwest, but you can find them around certain neighborhoods. Or go to the valley.


And the air does get crisp. And boots, scarves and jackets can be worn sometimes out of necessity, not just fashion.

It has even rained here for a couple of days. Hard. Beautiful and perfect. The rain has brought with it days of heavy, low, and dark rain clouds that have been spectacular. It's like God knew that I needed to be reminded that while 300 or so days out of the year life in Santa Barbara pretends to be sunny and perfect and too good to be true, it doesn't always need to be like that. Sometimes we need cloudy rainy days and cold days, they're good for us. Good for our soil and our hearts.

And my friends are wonderful. Not that I was ever doubting this, but many of them, this week, in their own ways, have reminded me subtly why it is next to impossible for me to leave this place.

I got free coffee for voting, twice. Voting is a privilege in and of itself and doesn't need to be rewarded, but I'll take free stuff!

I had my first meeting with my advisor for my thesis and am really looking forward to working on it, more than I would have thought. My research will be interesting, and I will be contributing in ways that matter to a project that I think is fascinating and important.

And my garden is flourishing. A little picture of life, of change, of hope, when I look out there and see what used to just be tiny seeds now thriving and becoming what God intended them to be. Peas and carrots and onions and lettuce...

In short, currently, I am grateful. Very much so.

And, if it's posssible, I'm thankful that I feel so full of gratitude. It's a nice place to be. I'd like to set up camp here for a while.