Counting your blessings

I've been in kind of a funk lately. A what am I doing? funk. A what does it all mean? funk. A am I the crazy one? funk. I've spent a lot of time trying to remind myself to focus on some non-funk-inducing thoughts. Trying to create my own Bing Crosby crooning to Rosemary Clooney over a glass of milk and a sandwich non-funk-inducing thoughts.

From here

Like...

A husband that is equal parts sincere and ridiculous.

A boy that looks like he's been in the saddle all day when he walks.

Short but lovely calls over lunch and after work with former roomies and always friends.

Family here. And family there who is like the family here, only younger and with beer.

Dinner and sometimes drinks with girls that are equally nostalgic about UNI.

My red pants.

A crazy dog.

Comic relief from little boys when picking up and dropping off Dexter at the sitter.
Dexter's older and wiser buddy: "Dexter can't play with the Lincoln Logs because he'll bite them." 
Sitter: "We'll watch and make sure he doesn't bite all of them." 
Older and wiser buddy: "Yeah, I'll play with them and we can put Dexter to bed." 

 
Just to name a few.