I am grateful for paint under fingernails.

I am grateful for frozen cheeks.

I am grateful for a pair of mourning doves.

I am grateful for cushioning on a chair.

I am grateful for dryer sheets that smell good.

I am grateful for blue sky.

I am grateful for an Oreo.

I am grateful when I see a dog sitting in a passenger seat watching like a sentry towards the door of a business, anxious for their owner to return.

I am grateful for the teaching this week about Solomon’s Porch.

I am grateful when I don’t get popped with bacon grease.

I am grateful for the smell of someone’s fireplace or their dryer sheets working during a walk.

Which reminds me that I am still grateful for hardware store smell.

Which reminds me that I am always and consistently grateful for popcorn and coffee and bacon and men’s cologne and peony and Comet and Pine-Sol and eucalyptus and Baby Magic and balsam plug-ins and alfalfa-at-the-co-op and road-construction-black-tar smells.

And I am grateful for new mercies every morning that I see and experience.