Well, here I am at day 20 of The Gratitude Experiment. Today, I'd like to say how grateful I am for the quiet sanctity of my office -- the place where I write. It's a great writer's office for lots of reasons. It has amazing views of the mountains and my horses, and is full of junk, piled in heaps; the stuff I've collected over the years. I have eight skeletons hanging behind my desk (I'm a big fan of Day of the Dead Mexican folk art), a nineteenth-century Japanese watercolor, four guitars, a mandolin, a stick-pony named Blackie that we've had since my son was born, various likenesses of Ganesh, a rhinoceros' head, and a rice container that Autumn Cornwell gave me. Lots and lots of other stuff, too, but I can't list them all. Best anti-writer's-block office ever.
