Monday, May 31, 2010



A sunken vessel...only the timber is floating
The gods are gloating

I had been bowing on my violin
Blowing loudly my horn
Boating on the oily
Slippery sea of life

Now singing
Now thinking
Now wanting
Now sinking

Must out of myself
Must help others
Must comfort, not comforted be.
More thinking--yes
But not now about...ME!

I still sink
On the brink
Of despair
Atop the mare.

Now rotting on the shore
But still a part of
Every other thing
Nor to be apart
From the rest of the world

Ostracized? Yes!
Unique? No!
Solitude? Yes!
Isolation? No!

One day soon again
Over my little island
The sun will shine
On perfect sand--and
Thou be mine
And I...Thine

Saturday, May 29, 2010


a PARIS, 1856

Before the Civil War. 
Before Lincoln was President. 
Before steveroni was born! 
So you KNOW it is not a 
SEARS "Weekend Special"...

In September twenty years ago, I had been to Cincinnati visiting with my mother and  loads of relatives. Return-to-Naples Flight was uneventful. My violin which I bought in 1951 for $850 was valued in 1990 upward of $35,000, and it lay comfortably under my seat on the plane.

An attractive woman sat next to me on the 2-hour flight.  We did not speak--can you believe that?--grin! For hidden reasons, the captain announced we would be circling Fort Myers for about 20 minutes. The light-skinned, dark-haired Peep next me began the conversation:

Lady:  "Well, I guess we'll arrive late at the gate?"

ME:    "Yep!

"What is in that case on the floor?"

"A violin."

Do you play it?

"Yes, I do."

"My Great Grandfather made violins."

"Oh? What is his name?", I asked.

The next moment in the 20-minute lifespan totality of our "relationship" my heart jumped around, I felt feint, my knees became week.

I asked again, "WHAT did you say?"

"Georges Chanot."


She, the non-believer: "You are not being truthful!"

So I bent down and gently pulled out my violin case, opened it, displayed her Great Grandfather's signature inside the violin with the date. She was dumbfounded! AND, so was I!

And, yes, I did take the violin out, and played a little for her and the passengers, just as we were being told by the pilot, "We are going in!"

Something spiritual--we had not a clue--had happened. Possibly it was a moment we each needed to know God a bit better, and that He IS everywhere. Maybe it was our angels simply having a bit of fun! 

I have no idea of the odds of that brief meeting and connecting, but it had to be in the "millions-to-one" area. Oddly I did not get her name, nor she mine, and so our paths have not, and never will cross...on the other hand, who knows?  REALLY! Remember my slogan (also the name of my other blog) "YA NEVER KNOW".....

The story you have just read is true. No names were used so that none must be changed!  Sober that day--OH! Holy Crap!  I almost forgot!!! Lady is one of "US"...an alcoholic in recovery in AA--from Cincinnati, Ohio. "Ya Never Know!" That day in September was a"Miracle Day" for me.

It was 1990
This is 2010
Yes, I am still sober.
Hope the Lady is also.
Love all you Peeps! ♥

Friday, May 28, 2010



Two Friday "55"s today. If you'd like to play
post a 55-word story or whatever, and let
G-MAN know about it!

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May
And summer's lease hath all too short a date. 
--William Shakespeare

"55" Number ONE


Fly little bird,
Fly with the wind.
For if you don't
You have sinned.

For the wind is the law
And the law is just.
Whence the wind blows
You also must.

So fly, sweetest bird,
Go fly with the wind.
If you do not
You've most assuredly sinned...

"55" Number TWO

In all Creation
Above and beneath
There exists a simple rule
Creator's bequeath

The rule is thus.
What is following next
All must obey
No matter what
Any one may say:

There arrives a moment
That birds, beasts,
And Quirky Peeps
Even great celestial bodies
And simply
Let go,
Let God..... 
Picture from
Deviant Art:  FREEDOM by Rippedknees

Thursday, May 27, 2010



I was alone and lonely
Also I spoke to no one
And the world seemed
A strange place.

Tried to kill the pain
(Oh! the hurt was terribles)
Of a quarter-century love
Running in the rain.
Running from my life

I, like wounded bear
Few would near--dare
Gossip I could hear,
Faces I saw sneer.
I was kindly left alone.

Across a crowded room
You and I, and soon
I spied you, eyed you
("Will you be my wife?
And live with me my life?")

For the good and bad
For the time, for the love,
For the happy and sad
We have shared
Thank you Anna

So, in nineteenth year
We are still here
Still together
Still sober

Wednesday, May 26, 2010



Will be using my pet DROID--the phone that does everything except hug and kiss and.......

We are celebrating now our 19th Wedding Anniversary Thursday, and Anna's (that's Prayer Girl) birthday May 29, Saturday. 

Will read your blogs on the DROID, but will not be much commenting--is slow (for me) on those mini keyboards.

All you Peeps, have some great days near the end of May, enjoy God's nature-poetry in motion, and colorful art pieces EVERYWHERE in nature, and before and after.

See y'all on the weekend! 

Whatever we do, let's do it with ENTHUSIASM. OK?


Tuesday, May 25, 2010


 MAY 25, 1933

This morning, (well, midnight?) Tuesday May 25, I was greeted on line by a blog post dedicated to me--steveroni.

Without a doubt my BEST FRIEND in the Blog-hood, Sweeter Poet Dulce has bestowed a cyber birthday gift, a blog post dedicated to--yep...ME!.  I learned from Shakespeare that a gift is twice blest, in who GIVES, and who TAKES, and I accept with love this gift from "Canary-Girl" friend. 

I hope that one day she will visit this country, so that we can meet face-to-face. I know I would cry--with joy! Such a fine poet and guru of life and living. We are truly friends.

NOW...for my post, 
three scenarios in which the phone person 
is a surprise response to Dulce's blog post today


"This is help Desk. How may I help you?"
"Oh my, yes, I need help so badly."
"OK, deposit $85 USD and then tell me, what is your problem."
"My problem is...that I do not have $85."
"Sorry. Help Desk is closed for the season."


Ring...Ring...Ring...Ring /

"Yes, yes, what is it?"
"Is this Desk Help?"
"Sorry, this is Help Desk..."
"WTF!  I need HELP, not to deal with Samantics."
"Sir, you do need help. The word is SEMantics."
"No, I need help with my body."
"Please, SIR! We are not that kind of Desk Help--I mean Help Desk, Dammmit."
"You do not understand...it is my violin, the body is coming unglued."
"(Sigh!) Oh well, what is it's age?"
"Age...154 years, built in 1856."
"Hey, wait, that is before Lincoln was president, C'mon, YOU!"
"It was made in Paris, France. Georges Chanot is the Luthier."
"We do not even go NEAR French bodies. Sorry"
"You are NOT a real 'helping desk', are you?
"Simmer down Sir...try a teaspoonful of glue. And call me back. Ask for Dulce."

(Texted messages)

Ding--ding--di........"You have a TEXT message"


Is this deskhelp in India?
I have a big  problem.
I tried a teaspoonful of glue as you said...
My tongue is permanently fastened to my upper teeth. You did not tell me, "Do not use Super-Glue!"


Monday, May 24, 2010



May SKIP a couple days now and then, 
but I shall never again leave here without 
an explanation, and "good-bye"...OK?

NOW please go down and read my poem, understanding that I love poetry, and am just wetting my feet...trying to put my love of words to some use other than "Blah Blah Blah".

steveroni...sober and clean today



Nothing will fit
There just are no words
For "Good-by"

Write here I must again
For I never know when
It will be all taken away
--As it will some blackened day
The moment of "Good-by"

God, oh why did You not see?
Why did You do this to me?
Why did You let me stay
When told so often "Go away"
--But not "Good-by"?

It was--you know--"My will be done"
As it would be still today
Because--you know--I am the one
Who refused to simply say

Inventor of new math:  "one equals six"
And even later, "five equals ten.
Honored to've been one of your picks
First choice--out of all the men
I will never say it ("Good-By") again

 Even years from now I
 May look back and cry
 And then, ensconced above
 I will yet watch over you...
 With love.

So long.......

Saturday, May 22, 2010



In this tropical climate of SW Florida, we live in a predominantly Spanish-speaking neighborhood. At my age, and in this political climate of continually growing bureaucracies, I have created a well-beaten path to the pharmacy--well, Walgreen's, --grin! Working there is a young Spanish (Cuban) girl, who "likes the way I talk"! And we have gotten to know each another.

Standing in the checkout line, I hear her telling her Spanish friends something, and gesturing toward me...and they all laugh knowingly. I usually ask what was said. Invariably, the Peeps will tell me, "She says you are a good man, wise, kind, and sweet. She can tell by looking at your eyes. And she likes your voice." To have--at age 77--even my voice noticed by someone, is already too prideful a consideration for me.

Well...I thought that the eyes do not lie, but I am here to tell you, THEY DO! Still, I enjoy visiting the store, and since I now have eight doctors who see me regularly, the occasions for me to visit the pharmacy have become more rather than fewer. Lots of "strangers" around the 'hood now recognize and say "Hello, Steve" in my direction. And yes, I admit to enjoying Ego strokes and flattery, even when it is not justified--and that IS often.

Someone (ANONYMOUS!) commented on my blog one day about 3 months ago, something like this:  

"Yes, Steve.  That is what you need. Your great Pride and Ego always are in need for another Peep to soothe your mind, rub your back, praise your wit and charm, and tell you how great you are and how well you write."

OK I left it to stand, because ...well, so what? I enjoy friendships when and whence they are placed in my path.  Humility? Well, I suppose this post could be named "Lack of Humility"??? Psssst...I do not really believe that!

I stand GUILTY.....mostly of being human. Sometimes, it's a bitch!

Can a Peep be "half-depressed"? That's how I have felt for a week--depressed...sort of. Bad, BAD thoughts. If you are so disposed, say a silent prayer for steveroni...THANKS!

I'm certain God will know you...and me.

Lagniappe:  Ya know--I never in nearly two years in this blogger-hood have found anyone to comment on another blogger's post, "That is a horrible poem", or "Your paintings suck!" or "Why don't you go back and learn how to write?"  

Of course, the Peeps I've met here ARE exceptional in their efforts, I mean WE are treated to some real professional stuff, prose, poetry and art pieces here. Even so, who of us does not enjoy the occasional praise, the support, the friendship, and even the rare soft criticism we encounter. I LOVE these blogs, and this life, and nature, and all of creation--THAT'S what bloggers do--THEY CREATE!!!!  And I love ALL YOU PEEPS!

I'll stay sober today.

Deviant Art: 

Friday, May 21, 2010

Back in a fewwww hours

Playing a wedding on beautiful 
Marco Island today. Be back to 
read all the fifty-fives after.
Looking forward to that. 

Also grateful to have a job. 
See y'all later..

Thursday, May 20, 2010



HE continues to speak
Who knows why
He is not something
Up in the sky

He is here
In you and me
Is it my fault
That I did not see

What future plan
Whether I find you
In snow or sand
But seek I shall do

Because I know, God
You are there


If you wish to write some kind of story in exactly 55 words, let the G-Man know about it and he will respond. Then visit other 55-writers (there are many...) Go HERE


Wednesday, May 19, 2010


Since becoming a member of Alcoholics Anonymous, I have some favorite SIX-WORD quotes, many more than are listed here.  These are from our "Big Book" with corresponding page numbers.  They sort of represent my own path in sobriety, with the exception of a few deviant deviations:

"...men and women who have recovered..." (xiii)
" ...hopeless state of mind and body." (xiii)

"When I discovered alcohol, everything changed" (320)

"...will control and enjoy his drinking..." (30)
"...great obsession of every abnormal drinker." (30)
"...persistence of this illusion is astonishing." (30)

"...alcoholics of our type are in  (30)
the grip of a progressive illness." (30)

"...could not manage our own lives." (60)

"But we aren't a glum lot." (132)

"We absolutely insist on enjoying life." (132)

"We stood at the turning point." (59)

"...willing to grow along spiritual lines" (60

"God, I offer myself to You..." (63)

"Here are the steps we took..." (59)
"...suggested as a program of recovery." (59)

"Sought through prayer and meditation to improve..." (59)

"...I found I had come home..." (206)

Do YOU have a favorite Big-Book Six-word quote?

Sunday, May 16, 2010


(The last meditations of Anthony De Mello)

 PLEASE spend 3-4 minutes it 
might take to read the following.
Whether you comment matters not...

A MEDITATION:  Pages 55-59
In publishing this short chapter from the book, I took a liberty to edit slightly. In doing so, I put the context in first person, because I am the one learning here--There is not an intention to "teach" you Peeps. All my life is connected by words from God to me--not directly, but through other humans--the only way I may understand. Some time I have listened, sometimes not. Now I wish to "hear"...and behave in accordance... Steve E


Life is a symphony for we who have the ears to hear, but rare indeed is the human who hears the music. Why? Because I am busy listening to the noises which our conditioning and programming have installed in our heads. That and something else--our attachments. An attachment is a major killer of life. To really hear the symphony I must be sensitively attuned to every instrument in the orchestra.

When I take pleasure only in the drum, I cease to hear the symphony because the sound of the drum has blotted out the the other instruments. I may prefer a certain instrument with no harm, for a preference does not damage my capacity to hear and enjoy the other instruments. BUT--the moment my preference turns into an attachment, it hardens me to the other sounds, suddenly  undervalue them.

And I am blinded to the particular instrument, because I shall give it a value out of all proportion to its merit.

Now I must look at a person or thing for which I have an attachment: someone or some thing to whom I have handed over the power to make me happy or unhappy. OBSERVE how, because of my concentration on getting this person or thing and holding on to it and enjoying it exclusively to the exclusion of other things and persons;  and how, because of my obsession with this person or thing, now I have less sensitivity to the rest of the world.

I've become hardened. And I have the courage to see how prejudiced and blind I have become in the presence of this object of my  attachment.

When I see this I will feel a yearning to rid myself of every attachment. Problem--HOW? Renunciation and avoidance is no help, for to blot out the sound of the drum once again makes me as hard and insensitive as to concentrate solely on the drum. What I need is not renunciation, but understanding--awareness. IF my attachments have caused me suffering and sorrow, that helps me to understand.  IF I have at least once in my life had the sweet taste of freedom and the delight in life which UNattachment brings, that can also help me. It also helps if I constantly notice the sound of the other instruments in the orchestra BUT THERE IS NO SUBSTITUTE for the awareness that shows me the loss I suffer when I overvalue the drum and when I turn a deaf ear to the rest of the orchestra.

The day that happens and my attachment to the drum stops I will no longer say to my friend, "How happy you have made me." For in so saying I flatter his ego and manipulate him into wanting to please me again, and more. And I give MYSELF the illusion that my happiness depends on my friend.  Rather I will say, "When you and I met, HAPPINESS arose." That leaves the happiness uncontaminated by his ego and mine. Neither of us can take credit for it. And that makes it possible for the two of us to part with NO attachment to each other, OR to the experience which our meeting generated. For we have enjoyed not each other, but the symphony that arose in our meeting.

And when I move on to the next situation, or person, or work, I do so without any emotional carryover. And then I make the JOYOUS DISCOVERY that the symphony arises there also, playing a different melody in the next situation, and the next, and the next,

NOW I can move through life--living from one moment to the other, wholly absorbed in the present, carrying with me so little from the past that my spirit could pass "through the eye of a needle". I will be as little distracted by worries of the future as the birds of the air and the flowers of the field. I will be attached to NO person or thing, for I will have developed a taste for the SYMPHONY OF LIFE. 

And I will love life alone with the passionate attachment of my whole heart, whole soul, my whole mind and all my strength. I will find myself traveling unencumbered and free as a bird in the sky, always living in the ETERNAL NOW. And I will find in my heart the answer to the question, "Master, what is it I must do to be happy? To get Eternal Life?"

Friday, May 14, 2010


Brian is wonderfully adept at story-telling, that I hesitate to do this--  I hope that it does not come through as impertinence on my part. I had written a comment on Brian's "55" and dontcha know? It came out to exactly 58 words, so I wrote a "fiction" to his "non-fiction". Here is Brian's original, my 55 follows his:

pale & bloated,
he lay,
a great, dead walrus,
in the front yard,
little hearts boxers
cutting into his abundance.

it was always me, me, me...
she said, he said,
police bagging her
cast iron skillet.

none questioned how
her response
was less selfish,
except their son,
laying in the impression
left in the uncut grass.

steveroni's "55"...

(Brian, you are indeed a MASTER teller of tales. Were you on that road to Canterbury?)

Fade into..."But, Judge Howell, you do not understand...he was running, and WHACK! ran right into my skillet..."

"WHY did I have a skillet in the front yard? Hell man, I was swatting mosquitoes..."

I rest my case!

Flash Fiction Friday 55 is hosted by G-Man

Thursday, May 13, 2010


Old Joke:  Termite sat on the bar stool 
and asked in a loud voice
"Is the bar TENDER here?"


Many years ago (45), when I moved to Naples, FL, there was no symphony orchestra in which to play my violin.  Naples  was--and is--a tourist area, a winter-home type city/county.

The primary businesses were churches and liquor store-bar-combinations.  Since my main occupation was, well...ummmm--DRINKING, I got a job as bartender. (What else?)

Nine years later, forced by ill health, the law, and Peeps, I capitulated to a Higher Power--God--to help me stop drinking. I stopped and stayed stopped until this day...

I was so enthusiastic about a fellowship--Alcoholic Anonymous--and its program of action, which did for me what I had tried to do on literally hundreds of occasions during the previous 20 plus years.  That is stop drinking.

STORY 1974

I had been working in a place named WITCH'S BREW in Naples, for three years.  Three years (to the very DAY!) I was fired, for the first time in my life. I was given an adequate severance, unheard of in "bartender" circles, and told to get out and never come back.
Also the owner told me I was the best bartender he ever had working for him.  Go figure.

Well, about 30 years later--still not drinking--I "figured it out".  I was SO wanting to let the whole world know that I had stopped drinking (who CARED OR CARES???) ...and specifically my bar-fly friends. I found myself, while stirring a dry martini for one customer, explaining to these folks, many inebriated, all about how to save their lives.  Also I explained in detail night after night, how their families were suffering, and how they could also have a better future, by not getting drunk every night.

All the guy (or gal) had to do was switch to coca cola, and everything would work out. Well, everything worked out.  I went home, it was 3 AM Thanksgiving morning 1974, and I got to tell my family we had to tighten our belts, that I was unemployed.

How STEWPID I felt!  And fearful, because the word would get out not to hire this non-drinking evangelist (me) anywhere in this county.  Well, I did walk into one place a few weeks later, a new restaurant in town, brand new everything--kitchen, lounge, tables, and my boss rode a big Motor Scooter!  These are "my Peeps", Peeps!  It was then that I took the risk to tell the assistant manager and the GM, that I was a recovering alcoholic.

Don't you know, they both laughed, and told me they too, were recovering alcoholics in the AA Program, and had just arrived in Naples from Akron Ohio, the birthplace of AA.  Well, we got along famously, and had an AA meeting every night right there on the job!  I got to continue working the bar, making drinks, playing the violin, and all lived.....I was going to write "happily ever after" but that is not the way it happened.  The rest of the story deserves a posting of its own.  The bottom line--for me here--was that (again) God did for me what I could NOT do for myself. Got me a job in an occupation I knew, and WOW! the money was Goood!

You know, I often ask God to change me, and He does!  But he keeps wanting to change things which I DO NOT WANT changed! Oh, well....

Lots of yard work to do.  Now that it is summer it is ongoing in this tropical paradise.

Blessings for all of you, Peeps.  Please SMILE today at someone who is probably not expecting it, OK?

Lagniappe:  Two weeks ago, i met a man named Bob (real name) who remembered those days of which I just wrote, all these 36 years later...and he was sitting in the meeting room--for the first time!!!  Believe THAT! (OK, God! What next?)

DEVIANT ART: Zelda__Link___The_Last_Guest_by_Dayu

Wednesday, May 12, 2010


A Happening, A Story, A Poem
A non-verbatim account--Sunday, May 9, 2010


(She is eighty, he eighty-three
And all they have left is...me)

A little old lady
A little old man
Went riding last Sunday
In the "month of May"! 
To church at St Ann
Little lady and little man.

There they both heard
From biblical word:
"Welcome Home", and
"Be not afraid"
Words from long before
Remembered no more

The question, after mass
Where do you want to go
Was answered quickly
"We wish to be at...home!"
So I took them to roam
Round the old neighborhood
Walked partly into the wood

They--each in a wheelchair
"Dear, I admire you hair." 
And me behind, pushing!
Said one,
"Dear, please no rushing..."
Said the other:
"Back to our house, stranger"
("Shhh...but you live there
No longer--remember?")

"Where are you driving us?
Our house is back there!
We can take the bus."
"No...no longer, Dear
You now live here"--
Division of Mental Health.
"Don't be afraid."

"Oh dear, I'm scared, but
I do remember those words:
'Be Not Afraid'...
Now who said that?"

"Must we go in
This dingy den?"

"Yes, Sweet. See,
Beautiful Miss Donahue
Came out to meet you!"

(Miss Donahue said to him and to her)
"Welcome Home, little birds.
Welcome Home!"

"I DO remember those words.
Just who said that today?
'Be Not Afraid, and
Welcome Home...'
How nice to say!"

She eighty, he eighty-three.
And they, each in turn
Smiled at, and kissed...me!

DEVIANT ART: James_and_Bea_by_Dtellesen

Monday, May 10, 2010


Amended: Because of minor laser surgery Tues. morning, I will be later than usual responding to comments, etc. If you care to pray, direct your thoughts to Dr Lynn, that God guides her hand to rid me of the foggy vision. Thank you.


"Good morning God, this is Steveroni, reporting for duty."

If only I had knelt and spoke those words "upon arising", then I might not feel Restless, Irritable, and Discontent ("RID") toward the end of this day.  So much spinning of wheels.  So much time spent, with no results. 

True, I hurt nobody today, at least physically. True, I went to two AA meetings. True, peeps at home kept on me for this or that--fix this, when are you going to do that? Usually, stuff like that washes right off. But in these cases I "sounded off"...and made an Amend.

Let me walk back through the day. One friend celebrated 8 years of sobriety, while a girl she sponsors had 6 years today, the same day! Sitting near them was a guy who just came back, first meeting after 5 years "back out" drinking. Lost everything; wife, children, house, car, boat, country club membership and job. He has nothing, living with friends who move him around day after day. Asked why he "went out" after 11 years of being sober, he said simply, "AA didn't work for me."

Ahhh! Another topic. Surprise! AA does NOT work! It is a gift from God, a program for living--a way of life--which WE recovering Peeps do the "work".  AA has saved many millions of Peeps from early death, or lives of chaotic misery or insanity. 

This program, if practiced ("worked") with some diligence, practically guarantees an alcoholic will live with a degree of really true happiness, serenity even. 

And I will not have to dull my senses by attacking the central nervous system with booze, which is basically ethyl alcohol..."Have another drink?"  "OH! Yes, thank you!".  Ethyl alcohol, also used as a detergent, formerly the normal anesthetic used in operating rooms. I drank enough of it to be anesthetized for a LONG LIFE (DEATH?) of inebriation.


So today is really a HAPPY day for me, another day sober, a day of reflection, a day of reconnoitering, gathering together the troops, working in the yard, praying until it becomes praising, and I will go to a meeting tonight.

Love you, Peeps! Thanks for reading.

Sunday, May 9, 2010



A lady at one meeting today claimed she had been "drink-free" for 8 years, but her life was in chaos, she has daily thought about being drunk--"anesthetized"--for all those years.  How cruel we are to ourselves!

Well, it was her very first meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous, and every single day she is "Restless, Irritable, and Discontent" (AA words, not hers) which we refer to as RID. As in "When not drinking, we are Restless, Irritable, and Discontent."

Well, she says she wants to get better, she realizes that she is sick--that's a good First Step.


We live in a lovely neighborhood which is predominantly Spanish-speaking. About two years ago, I knew one word in Spanish--"Gracias"...and so I signed up at our public library for a free on-line course in Spanish--everyday speaking.  Two years later, the extent of my Spanish is..."Gracias". My point is that in order to learn something--or to change something about myself--I need more than an on-line computer course. I need to be accountable to someone. I need to make a learning environment one of my daily habits.


Well, an old-timer said to the lady that "Recovery from alcoholism is not like an on-line course, where you can read a book, follow instructions, and become a new person. NO! You gotta be in the classroom. You need the interpersonal relationships with others who have the same illness. Ya gotta learn from the mistakes and experiences of others and your own."


"First-Day" Lady kept bobbing her head in seeming understanding. Ya never know.

Saturday, May 8, 2010








For many years I have been listening to Peeps tell me that "Gratitude is an 'action' word. One does not simply sit here and be grateful."

While I agree that to show some sign of being thankful, other than just sporting a smiling expression, I must first have received a gift, and second, must know what IS that gift. When it finally hits me (when will it?) that God has done something for me which I could not do for myself, then I might say the following:

...in no particular order

SPONSEES, "must-haves", I need them
ICE CREAM, love it--any kind except "fat-free, sugar-free"
LIVING ON FARM, taught me a lot
HORSE, Mickey, beautiful shiny "black beauty"
SOBRIETY, without which I'd have been dead 30 years ago
FAMILY, here and elsewhere, I love them
FRIENDS, I love them
LOVE--Yes, I admit I love "love"
AIR cannot live without it--

ODORS love all those smells
NOSE of mine--it smells things others do not.  I can even
          tell women what perfume they are wearing--TRUE!
ART of all kinds, performing, creating
PAINT, to throw on canvass
DANCE...like ballet
POETRY--I'm attempting this myself occasionally
RAIN, thunder and all the trimmings
FLEX, my Guardian angel (Flexible)
FLEX, my 650cc scooter, named after angel
FLORIDA, 45 years of living in Naples
MEDICAL SCIENCE, and dedicated doctors
MUSIC, the old masters
MUSIC, the new masters!
HERSHEY BARS, and chocolate in general
COFFEE, I'll settle if there is no espresso machine
.www or What a Wonderful World
COMPUTER, named Higher Power
GOOD HEALTH, well, comparatively speaking
PEEPS, everywhere
MY VIOLIN, by Georges Chanot c.1856 Paris, Fr
SERENITY, when I have some
PEACE, most of the time, this, yessss
Did I mention "LOVE"--grin!

More next year............Peace to you, Peeps