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Normally our grocery store offers the usual roses, daisies, mums for sale. Who knew that giant marigolds, in balls of bright orange splendor, could be a thing? The scent of marigolds transports me to childhood, and tending the garden, deadheading the blooms once they dried.

But many other pictures went untaken on this day. Vendors sell their wares on the bridge at the US/MX border. Businesses flash by as I travel down the interstate. A cart collects groceries that will later provide four meals. Tomato meat sauce and then pasta bubbles on the stove.

A phone call provides the speediest of summaries and a promise to pray is later fulfilled. A chile relleño plate and a giant glass of tea with a wedge of lime- I share the corner of a table with one of my best confidants.

Tables stacked with bibles, Spanish and English both, ready for the evening activities. Plans confirmed, prayers uttered. "True" and "False" written on the board, ready to be slapped with flyswatters. Faithful and eager faces gather around, diligently repeating, repeating, repeating tongue twister words. Political commentary offered when we least expect it and the grins and laughs that follow. Hugs from all as we exit at the end of the night.

Watching two of my favorite shows with two of my favorite girls. A bowl filled with a brownie and coffee ice cream. A silly, lazy, ridiculously furry dog lays at our feet. The numbers on the clock turn much too late while I bask in dim and silence. All in all, a multitude for which to be thankful, more than I can number well.