2011 and gratitude.

Happy New Year, darlings! As we’ve just come off the season of warm fuzzies (or of mass consumerist hell, or familial drunkenness, or all of the above), I have found myself ruminating on things for which I am grateful. (There will doubtless be repeats of October’s Happy 101 Award list.) I can think of worse ways to start the new year.

1. my health
In 2010, I deepened my yoga practice and watched my body change for the better. I’m stronger and happier than before, and I’m so grateful that I have the health and strength to continue to fall in love with yoga and see what else my body and I can do together. I won’t be running any marathons (I like my toenails where they are), but maybe I’ll get a little closer to Chaturanga.

2. Red
He lets me steal the covers and wakes me up with coffee on the weekends. I’m a lucky girl.

3. Lucy
I love you, crazy dog, even when you decide you want to kiss me directly after making out with your butt. Please continue to tolerate having your teeth brushed.

4. my mom
When I couldn’t decide which yarn to choose for the kitty-ears hat she’s going to knit me, she told me to get both. Soon I’ll have two kitty hats, and that’s why my mom rocks.

5. my dad
He always tells me how happy he is to see me and to hear my voice when I call. I hope I never miss a chance to tell my kids the same things.

6. my sister
I miss my baby girl, all the way down South with people who talk funny and vote Republican. Had I been an only child, I probably wouldn’t have been forced to watch Cinderella a thousand times or witness my Barbies suffer unconscionable haircuts, but I also wouldn’t have one of my best friends.

7. my in-laws
Mother-in-law horror stories? Not at my house. My other mom has baked me vegan cupcakes, and my other dad always makes sure Red and I have plenty of plant-based nibbles at family get-togethers.

8. my job
I try not to bitch about work online, because that way lies a pink slip. And yet: I am overburdened and undermanaged, not to mention sick to death of the batshit organizational culture of my office. I plot my escape from corporate hell daily. Still, I have a job, am paid to do work at which I’m reasonably skilled in a cushy environment, and have time and money to do things I love. Most days, it’s a fair trade.

9. you
Without you, my friends (commenters and lurkers, online and off, and everyone who defies categorization), there would be no Vegan Burnout. I mean, I’d still be vegan and I’d still be burned out on any number of things, but this blog and the lessons I’ve learned over the last year-plus of writing it wouldn’t exist. Thank you.

Tomorrow, it’s back to your regularly scheduled snark and shenanigans. I’ve got a new cookbook and a new camera, so hold on!