I’m Proud to be a Vermonter.

Gratitude is a big theme in yoga studios during November. It’s a reminder not only to give thanks but to savor feelings of contentment. Be proud, happy and grateful for the simplest things, everyday things, not just nailing a headstand.

Dee and I ran into the local firewood man at Rumney’s store.

“I’ve moved the car. Plenty of room so anytime you’re ready”, she says.

“I’ll be by next week or so. It’s the same wood your sister is getting. Some green.” he warns.

I’m grateful and a little bit proud that the wood man knows we don’t need seasoned wood to keep the stove going, by the Jesus . I’m also grateful we are on the delivery list without me hounding HoneyBun.

“Wait. It’s hunting season. You sure you mean next week?”, I ask.

“More’n likely in a couple” he grins.

Mom and I are at Gaudette’s Dress Shop. As Mom takes the clothes to the the register, I slide my wallet back into my pocket because (conveniently) I notice a sleek, retriever type dog, out the window in the middle of the road, oblivious to the traffic driving around it.

As pedestrians look on curiously and drivers look on impatiently, a woman at the cross walk tries to call the pooch over. She’s ignored because the lingering scent of squashed squirrels is much more interesting.

I see a long rope attached to it’s leash. I walk on to the road without concern. Who would dare honk or drive into me. I step on the end, limiting the dog’s movement, and start roping it in. For a moment I feel like I’m the main act at a rodeo. Disappointingly no one cheers or applauds except for the mailman woman.

Moments later a woman walks down from one of the last hidden hamlets of Old Manchester with two other dogs in tow.

“She’s with me! I hoped there would be a Vermonter down here who wouldn’t be afraid to catch a dog on a Goll Dern leash.”

The owner may have been grateful but probably not as much as me. She called me brave… sort of. Coming from a multi-generational Vermonter, the comment meant something.

The Discount Beverage Store is one of the only stores open on Thanksgiving. This I know because two years ago there was no celery in Mom’s icebox for the stuffing. The DB isn’t know for it’s vegetable department but they did have a deli. Fingers crossed.

The owner started working there when he was 10 years old, obviously a native.

He gave me a whole head of celery, no charge. That’s one for the books. Neither Mom nor I will forget it by God.

Gratitude is a never-ending story, a stream of conscious and unconscious connections.

I’m grateful to to buy wood, to build a fire, to have a home, to feel brave, to save a dog, to accept a compliment, to give a compliment, to have food, to take a chance, to support local business, to have a Mom who buys me an outfit, to read, to write, to have a family, to have friends who help fix the roof, to be a proud Vermonter.

I’m grateful that the practice of yoga reminds me to be thankful at all times. Jesum Crow, I am thankful I didn’t look at my watch one time during class today. I’m just glad to be here.

Namaste- a little gratitude goes a long way.