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Every year, shortly before Thanksgiving, I like to write a column on all the things I'm grateful to have in my life. It's good to dwell on these things rather than the ills, the evils and the hatefulness of this world.

I have enough food to eat, and my family does, and my animals do. Our cups runneth over, pressed down, good measure. I'm blessed.

I have a home that shelters me. Sure, it's 45 years old and it needs some work, but it's a good, sturdy home with character that comes from seeing many individuals pass through its doors. I'm blessed.

My car runs well enough to get me to work. I'm blessed.

Speaking of work, I have a job I enjoy doing, for the most part. Even if I didn't enjoy it, it wouldn't be the end of the world. This is how I pay the bills for the food, the home, the car, the little extras that make life interesting and sweet. As I say a prayer for those who are searching for work, I realize just how blessed I am to have this place to go every week day. I'm blessed.

I have a family who loves me and takes care of me: sisters who still look after their baby sister even though her hair is gray and she's a mamaw now; a brother-in-law who puts his plans on hold to repair a leaking faucet in my kitchen; a son, daughter, son-in-law and beautiful granddaughter who drive me nuts but make me laugh, as I do them. Pretty soon, a grandson will be joining the circus that is our family. Everyone is healthy. I'm blessed.

I have good friends, some of them met when we were little kids in first grade, nearly 50 years ago; classmates from Everett High School, class of 1973, with whom I've reconnected since our 2008 reunion; church friends, coworkers, people I've met in the course of doing my job. Each one adds color and texture to my life -- a rich, varied tapestry that brings warmth and beauty and multitudes of exclamation marks. I'm blessed.

I have good friends -- I call them family -- of the furry kind, too. They provide me with unconditional love, companionship, heartburn and headaches -- and lots of laughs. I'm blessed.

My mind is active and engaged in my job and also in the hobbies I enjoy: crafts, genealogy, history, scrapbooking. Can anything be more satisfying that holding up a Christmas stocking made by my own hand for my grandchild? Or seeing the look on my daughter's or sisters' faces when they open a scrapbook of our family's history or get-togethers of the past year? I'm the unofficial keeper of the memories -- blessings from the past -- the recorder of the place where we have come from. In 100 years, my great-great-grandchildren will see some of these things and know where they have come from, too. I'm blessed.

You know the greatest blessing of all. It isn't these temporary things that can change in the blink of an eye. Homes, cars, jobs can disappear; pets, friends, even beloved family members move on or pass away. Only one thing stays constant: the love of a Savior who was born, died, rose again and cares for us with an infinite love our finite minds cannot fathom.

Oh, yes, I am so very, very blessed. And I know it.

Linda Albert is Women's Times editor and a staff writer for The Daily Times. Her column runs every Sunday in the Women's Times section. You may contact her at 981-1168 or linda.albert@thedailytimes.com, or follow her on Twitter: www.twitter.com/lalbert_editor.