You know how it is in the winter time, don't you? The clouds come up, the temps go way down, and we all get locked into our little space ships for a few days (or weeks, or months) at a time. The houseplants start to lean toward any source of light they can sense and they start to get a little leggy as they drop their older leaves and try to grow new ones too too too quickly. We get a little root-bound too. Maybe we don't get to see mister treadmill as much as we promised ourselves we would. Maybe we don't get out of our jammies until noon. Maybe we start (albeit inadvertently) picking up old habits and galvinizing new ones alongside our marathon episodes of what is popularly referred to as "vedge-ing out".
Well kids, that's kindof me right now. Except today is my day to try to shake me loose of my new-found potato-ass and get back into the light. Today is my day to start really writing and re-writing that new little book-a-doo of mine AND it's my day to honestly, earnestly, do all the chores on my "do this or else" list. and lo. the list is great. And LO. The desire to scramble under the covers or onto the couch or into the darkest corner of the room... the desire to hide is great.
Yesterday was a great step forward. Me and the ol' main squeeze, my beloved husband, that hearty soldier and winning gentleman of mine... we went for walkies in a little nature preserve we had never been to. It turns out it's only about 10 minutes' drive from our place. That, friends, kicks ass. It's a woodsy little place that's also half swamp (sorry, wetlands) and we had hoped that it would be brilliantly sunny and 68 degrees out. January not withstanding, the local weatherpeople were all confidently strutting around all weekend just oozing about how Sunday (yesterday) was going to be all kinds of sunny and rainbows and 68 degrees out.
THey were close. January won, it was overcast and foggy/misty as hell but it was a delightfully spooky walk through what turned out to be 58 degree weather. You remember how my hair curls up in humidity right? When we came outta there 2 hours later, it looked like I had gotten a perm AND stuck my finger in a light socket. I think my eyebrows were curling by the end of it. We got no end of giggles and laughs out of that, by the way. ANd we spent far too much time quoting Tolkien as we lumbered over the gorgeously manicured boardwalk that led us through the wetlands.
We saw oodles of geese, we saw starlings, we saw mallards and some mystery ducks. We saw turtles and a few things that went "ploop" as we approached their personal little puddle of ooze. We took a little deer trail and followed the sounds of about ten thousand crows as they played and wrestled in the leaflitter. They always stayed about 100 yards away from us, but we could see them and their hundreds and hundreds of jubilant black bodies tumbling and tossing around at the floor of the hardwood forest we were sharing. There were grackles, too. Zillions of 'em. And they were watching the crow-based block party too, but they were keeping their distance. They had plenty to say though, and made no efforts to conceal their disdain for the rabble we were all watching transpire in the distance.
On our way back we saw eastern bluebirds, with their velvety, cobalt blue cloaks. We saw little woodpeckers hammering away. We saw dozens of little golf-ball sized chickadees and their ilk. And we saw a brilliantly orange fox. The sun never once came out. The fog was so dense at times, that if it had not been for the trees to prop it up, we would have been easily smothered by it.
It was a great day.
Today, sadly, less so. Today I'm stuck in with the keyboard and the computer screen to tell me that I have things that I OUGHT to be doing. I have a dishwasher yawning away in the darkness over there and a grumbling pile of laundry that sneers at me every time I walk by.
I'm in it, though, so far. Today I'm in it. It looks like the clouds won't break for a while. It looks to me like we're in for one hell of a week. I've got my full spectrum lights on but it still feels dark in here. I'm a big time lover of darkness and fog and mist and whatnot - but medically speaking, I could use some good old fashioned vitamin D right about now. Wishing won't make it happen, though. Just gotta muscle through. I am dressed, after all. AND I took a shower already. Not to mention I already ate a balanced breakfast-y sort of meal. So I'm already way ahead of the game.
However. This is not my first rodeo. I've studied the models. I know this game. There will be a lasting darkness, I'm afraid. Let's just go ahead and charge in. See what happens.