Valentine Thanksgiving

I'm still in a posting funk (and busy as heck doing other things), but I can't let Valentine's Day pass without some mention of the things I love.  I'd been thinking of writing a post about the things I'm thankful for, so the two seemed to coincide nicely this morning.

I love Mrs. ProfessorRoush, whom I'm currently trying to aggravate by growing a goatee (got to keep them on their toes!).  It doesn't seem to be working since she hasn't yet mentioned it, even to comment on the gray creeping into it. Or maybe she's only pretending not to care to get my goat.

I love my daughter, diminutive clone of Mrs. ProfessorRoush, despite the throes and trials of her teenage years.  Only this morning, she was mentioning how her first choice next year for college apartments was just across the street from the Vet School.  I think she was reconsidering that choice after I mentioned how happy I was that we could then have lunch together every day.

I love my son, enlarged and enhanced clone of mine, lost into the wilds of uncivilized Colorado.  That apple thinks he's far from the tree, but keeps rolling back towards the trunk as he ages.

I love my extended family, far flung and always only a call away.

I love my day job, with hundreds of patients and clients, especially when I'm happily ensconced in a surgery where the world shrinks away from my consciousness.

I love this blog, the relaxation and release I get from writing it, and the hundreds of friends I've met through its creation.

I love my garden, verdant despite the Kansas winds, sun scorch, drought, ice, and fires.  And the many roses growing within, like 'Hope for Humanity', the deep red soul of my garden.

I love my blue Jeep, with its spare tire cover message of "Life is Good", because indeed it is.

And yes, despite my put-on moans of woe, I love this hard, stony, clay sodden, infuriating Kansas landscape, golden rust-brown now in the deep of winter.  Signs of spring lie everywhere, as hope slowly fills the sunflower field in the eternal summer of my soul.