What is your feather?

Yesterday on Oprah, her guest was some interior decorator who was making over the inside of some widow's apartment. He hung a feather on the wall because she told him that feathers made her think of her husband and that he was always watching over her and their daughter. Well, this guy said that everyone should hang something special like that in their home, and he asked Oprah, what is your feather?
Well, that got me thinking. And after a while I realized that I don't just have a feather, I have a whole fucking bird. I mean between my family and my animals and my friends, well, I would have wall space left if I hung some memorabilia up for all of them. It made me feel kind of bad.
See, here lately I've been a bit of a whiner. A moaner and begroaner if you will. Nothing seems to be going my way and I've been a bit of a crabby patty for the last week or so. But I kind of realized, and I hate admitting to any of my supposed faults, that my life is pretty alright. In fact, I kind of have a lot going for me and I need to buck up. So, since I know that I won't be making it to church before the end of the decade because honestly I really enjoy sleeping in and making banana pancakes(yeah Jack) on Sunday mornings, I feel the need to say a small thank you to whoever is in charge of keeping me and my little life on the right track. I know it must be a huge job, and I am truly grateful, so thanks.