Please forgive me for what might initially seem a little less than dignified and refined. Not that you’ve come to expect dignity and refinement from me but this one starts out with something quite a bit lower than the angels, I reckon.

Our big ole Craftsman style farmhouse in northeastern Kansas has three bathrooms: one on the main level and two for the upstairs sleeping quarters which include two or three guest rooms. During the day, we mostly use the little half-bath on the main floor. Decidedly more convenient than having to use the stairs.

So, needing to expel my properly processed breakfast coffee, I stepped into the little Palace of Necessity.

I noticed the porcelain receptacle had that special blue cleaning fluid in the bowl. So, I walked back into the kitchen and asked Randa, “Do you want me to use the upstairs bathroom so that can soak longer?”

To my absolute astonishment, even knowing my age and disposition, she replied, “Yes, please. That hasn’t had time to really work yet.”

So, I cheerfully trudged up the seventeen steps and turned to my right. As I walked into the bathroom, I chuckled to myself. “When I was growing up, we didn’t even have a bathroom in the house! Now… I can choose one of three!”

To be fair, we did get indoor plumbing when Dad had the old house torn down and a new one built in its place on the farm in Todd County, Kentucky back in 1961. We basically went from the 19^th Century to the 20^th in just a few months. Just in time to host the reception for my oldest sister Freeda’s wedding.

I didn’t really think much about what my life might be like when I reached the age of my grandparents. I mostly just thought about baseball, chores, playing baseball and basketball, and reading books. But I can confidently assure you that I never even imagined living in a house like this and having three indoor bathrooms!

It is so easy to perch ourselves in the ratty old outhouse of negative thinking, isn’t it? Start focusing on disappointment, troubles and trials, and disillusionment. Replaying old negative memories and fantasizing about future troubles. Granted, I have the advantage of having grown up with less than I have now. Having had a career that far exceeded any expectations that I had. I reckon that makes it a bit easier to appreciate the little things.

But, as I’ve come to grudgingly admit, it’s really more about the simple effort of appreciation than it is about incidental realization. God and a bunch of other folks have been far better to me than I have deserved.

And, honestly… I’m okay with that. Especially since I can still make it up and down the stairs.

Life is good.