"And be ye thankful..."
It still feels like a miracle.
For five months our water pressure went all two-thirds lower than its former self. Tom called the City a few times ('the squeaky wheel getting the oil'), they came out, knocked at the door and said our pipe had broken. On their side.
More calls and more weeks later, oh my! The workers repaired the pipe on Friday and now water gushes from our faucets. The good way. The way which feels like a full-blown, can-you-believe-it? miracle. No more standing at the sink, feeling like I slid into eternity while filling a pan with water.
And yes, this is a reminder for me to be oh-so-thankful for tiny things in daily life. They are the important, vital things, after all and there's no guarantee that always they'll be around.
It is a good thing to whittle down our future regrets.
But today, as today is, these (mislabeled) small things make every hour worthy of a confetti-throwing, soda-drinking celebration.
I've written before (like here) about dicey dental office visits, but you probably didn't even notice that I've not said a word about dentists lately. That's because (frankly) I was enjoying not needing to go see ours. All my teeth behaved for ever so long (relatively) so I ignored the dental receptionists' pleas/post cards/phone calls to get my teeth cleaned (they missed me, they insisted. Riiiiiight.), and instead, reveled wildly in my tooth-problem-free, happy-as-a-lark years.
Of course, it caught up with me. I knew it would. But oh, how good it felt to not have to go to the dentist all the time.
Anyway. Over the last few months I lost a filling and majorly broke a tooth, both which didn't bother me till last week. Sigh.
But the good news?
Within an even-Debra-can-walk-it distance of Hobbit Cottage, there's now a dentist's office. Kinda feels like another miracle, actually, because rather than have to get out of the house at the ungodly hour of 6:30 a.m. (as Tom does), drive him to work, hang around our previous Autumn Cottage Town for hours till the dentist office opens, go there, drive all the way home, then later, drive all the way back to Tom's work, pick him up, then drive back home through rush hour together--instead--
...tomorrow I'll just take a pleasant stroll beside the river to the new office whose receptionist sounded ever-so-pleasant over the phone this morning.
Oh, if only we could keep our eyes open for the daily miracles which surround us! If only we constantly thanked God for every small joy.
If we could? I'm sure our heads would not nearly so often defeat us.
Speaking of dentists--please keep praying for my friend, Anne. Something appears to have gone wrong with the procedure at the oral surgeon's office last week. She really needs our prayers. Thanks so much.
And thanks for keeping Naomi in your prayers. She's officially in London now and will be there the next few days.
Need something for which to be thankful today? Go here. This woman lives in just 86 square feet (albeit in Paris, but hey...) and though she's been ever-so-clever about the whole thing, still---
Oh, and all those stairs! No, no, no. (Don't they have elevators in France?) heh.
(A special thanks to my niece, Melissa, for sharing this story with me at Facebook.)
What's cooking in my crockpot today? Pork and vegetable soup.