Dead of Winter (photo: axelkr/flickr)

This is that midwinter time when it isn’t time to start planting, and it’s a bit cold for the outdoors; the days may be getting longer but they feel the same, and I light candles to cheer myself up.  I know a few people who get serious bouts of blues, that these days we call SAD instead of doldrums.

Some people use light therapy boxes to drive away the blues, and one I know who has one is Chicago Dyke.  She’s got a bunch to keep her busy right now, too, redecorating her house.

The other day I went to a nearby sports/health/gym to talk about joining, to see if I would actually get myself out and do some walking or biking on the equipment there.  Well, sure, if I wanted to take a 15 month membership at their low, low monthly price.  Okay, I’m the suspicious type, and don’t know if I have confidence enough that this place will still be in business that long away. And the last time I joined, it was the YMCA in Dallas where I thought I’d spend some lunchtimes. The most exercise I got out of that was walking over to cancel the subscription a year later.

Today, please don’t hate me, I just turned off my heat because it’s too warm to need it right now. Two nights ago, we had to cover up the spring bulbs coming up because it was a hard freeze. Are we bipolar or is it bi-equatorial?  I admit it, I’ve begun turning over the garden for planting, on the nice afternoons. Inside, I have a slow moving project going, moving my spices all to a cabinet over the stove.

How do you get through these midwinter days? My good friend with the spud truck, up in the snow in Pennsylvania, is working on a Neil Young tune, since it’s frozen solid up there. I know that demi is looking around to find a choir she can fit in her schedule.

If you work in an office, believe me, I sympathize.  These can be claustrophobic times, even if you have a window to look out.  We were high up in the Renaissance Tower in Dallas, and looked down on clouds some of the time. Whenever I think of it, I remember being almost alone there on 9-11, everyone was allowed to go home but I was waiting for a phone call.   My son had a flight out of National in D.C. that morning, and you all can imagine how life just stayed in suspension until finally he did call.

Maybe we should start working on our memoirs.  But for now, I’m thinking I’ll work on getting some sort of happy ending going for them.

Suggestions?  Do you have midwinter blues, or do you have a good way to keep them at bay?

Lake Reynisvatn (photo: axelkr/flickr)