Crossroads

The simple definition of crossroads is the place where two roads meet.  In my case, the crossroads in question feels like part two of the Merriam-Webster definition which states: "A point at which a crucial decision must be made that will have far-reaching consequences: 'we stand again at a historic crossroads'."  From where I'm standing, the decision(s) I need to make will potentially only be historic to me.  Also, from where I'm standing, it's not simply a question of whether to turn to the left or the right or even, to take the road less traveled.  No, the crossroads I see for myself have from five to eleven (and sometimes, even more!) routes criss-crossing each other at this point in time, and I seem to be left in the middle of a major intersection dodging situations, and peoples's lives as they shoot by me on their paths. 

Being stuck in the middle of a major crossroads dodging traffic, is the only explanation I have for where I've been for the past month, and why I haven't posted anything in that time.  Now, if I was choosing between heading for the lifeboats or staying on the Titanic - there'd be no hesitation.   Well, o.k., I'd still hesitate. 

At least, it would be clear that I had three choices: 1) going in wee lifeboat with Molly Brown and possibly surviving; or, 2) staying snug in my state room with my head under a pillow whilst the ship sank taking me with it; or 3) going for a North Atlantic swim while struggling against God knows how many layers of petticoats, skirts and whatnot, only to have hypothermia get me.   Now, don't you agree?  There's a clear choice here. 

Actually...., one could choose the showy option (No. 4) and go for a neatly executed swan dive off of the ship's rudder as the ship went nose down into the ocean.  However, surviving a dive of that height (not to mention the close proximity of the keel) is somewhat questionable. 

Without Titanic decisions being offered, what I'm left with are a myriad of small life choices.  For some reason, their apparent smallness makes it all the more difficult for me to choose.  These choices do have the potential to lead to something bigger.  

Unfortunately, there are a whole LOT of them which can overwhelm me.   There's no mysterious little inside voice saying "your life is to be found in the mall," or an inexplicable conviction that I can run the country better than the President so I need to start by running for local office.  "Be practical" you might offer.  I could try to apply for work at a famous discount store, but I'm not at all sure they'd have me! 

It's not simply my work/career, it's also how I'm to live.  So, for the moment, I'm left looking, wondering and spinning about in the middle of my crossroads.  Maybe some God-like figure will take pity on me one day, gently take me by the shoulders, turn me in a direction and give me a shove, and simply say "Go."   Otherwise, I may spend the rest of my time, stuck in the crossroads - dithering.  So, if you don't hear from me.  That's probably where I am living.

 

Rapt for the Rapture!

A lot has been written, posted, billboarded about today.  The day of purported Rapture.  It is now after 5 p.m.  I've been keeping an eye out all day, just in case.   My guy at Starbucks just informed me that it is supposed to occur at 6 p.m. today.  So I have about 40 minutes to write this!  It (being the Rapture) is all very fascinating.  Having been brought up in a non-religious household, I only really know about this event as quoted in Revelation of the Christian Bible and as reported to me by others.  I'm curious about several things.

First, when Rapture occurs, do our bodies leave this current existence along with our souls, or is it simply a matter of our souls leaving?  If it is the latter, there are going to be a LOT of empty bodies lying around for those "left behind" to clean up.   If it is the former, as some of my friends suppose, then yes, it will be a LOT easier to get around in the post-Rapture world.  No lines at the check out.  No lines waiting to get in anywhere.  And it should make driving in formerly congested metropolitan areas a breeze!  Funnily enough, well over 80 percent of my friends are expecting to be "here" after the Rapture.   Obviously the delights of congestion-free living far outweighs the possible delights of the Rapture for them.  I kind of agree with them, though I am firmly waiting to see what if anything happens.   I've got 30 minutes according to Starbucks guy.

There's also the possibility, you know, that the Rapture has been happening in stages.  It could very well be that the man who predicted the Rapture in 1994 was indeed correct!  If you take the premise that the Rapture's happening in stages, it is very possible that a good chunk of the human population disappeared back then. After all, that was before the worldwide coverage of the internet and smartphones and the "no place to hide" world that we have today.   17 years ago it is very possible a large number of people could have been "risen" without the rest of the world knowing. 

So, that could have been Stage 1.   Today, could be Stage 2.    And even tho' it is more tricky to get people "disappeared" these days (as any visiting aliens may have discovered), there are still some remote areas of the world where electronic communication coverage does not exist.   Stage 3 could very well be December 12, 2012 - the end of the Mayan calendar.  Though what the Christians were doing talking with the Mayans - who knows?  At the very least, the Rapture is a fun distraction from the throes of human living.

On the other hand, if it happens, and I'm one of the chosen, and you still have the internet, and you don't hear from me.  Well, it's been fun.  If it happens, and I'm still here afterwards, I'll be curious to see what happens next.   Cheers!

Thank Goodness for Sex Scandals!

Why? They're so titillating, interesting and as long as we're not the named parties, so much fun to watch all the press coverage, and judgment lobbed at these people.  The government must be thrilled to have so much sex on headline news these days.   Well, sex and extreme weather - not that they go together or anything.  The government thrilled?  Why yes.

Sex and weather and reality tv shows.  They've become great distractions from gas prices that are reaching $5/gallon; a national government which is threatening to go into bankruptcy; a national debt which is mind-bogglingly huge;  continued profits by the very companies which inflicted us with a severe recession;  increased layoffs by city and state municipalities; food prices which are spiralling upwards so that some folks can't afford to eat, much less travel to work to pay for the food they can't afford.

The reality tv shows - be they the soap operas of the rich, dance shows, singing shows, dating shows, "how low will you debase yourself for money" shows are all reminiscent of the dance marathons and competitions of the 1930s' Great Depression.  The big difference being that instead of a Dust Bowl, our poor Mid-West is partially drowned and very soggy.  It's also a little like the Romans and their Coliseum.  Keep the public distracted, throw various, carefully selected people to the media outlet wolves. 

I am all for entertainment, and sex certainly sells.  I just wish someone was making more of a concerted effort to see the real life challenges before us - and come up with some concrete, workable plans to alleviate the public's cost of living in today's world.  Distractions do work for a little while - just like sex.  But after that - what next? 

A Morning of Mulch

Yesterday morning, I joined a number of other intrepid souls to help cleanup the center of our little city.  The cleanup basically encompassed picking up trash, loosening dirt underneath sidewalk trees and around the flowering ivy planted underneath, and adding lovely, new mulch.  Mulch is the landscaper's cure-all to making a garden look fresh for Spring. Our scope was limited only by the amount of donated mulch, willing hands and patches of earth. 

The former city center has been hard-hit by economic reverses, the move of the city hall across the river, and the police station to the south end.  Esp. with the recession, there has been a steady loss of  business here, and even the City doesn't seem to be interested in looking after it.  So we did.  Happily, it's not an ugly area.  There's just a lot of litter and somewhat neglected plantings and trees.  All the volunteers brought tools, gloves and muscle.  In return, the organizers brought mulch, litter picker uppers and bags in which to put aforesaid litter.

The donated mulch was fabulous.  There were about 20 large bags for us to use, and we used them all!  The only drawback was that the bags were as stiff as boards!  The bags of mulch must have been at the bottom of a great pile, because not only were they hard with compression, there were ice granules in the middle of each!  Made carrying them about really hard.  I gave up trying after a while, and let the guys show off their superior strength while I made helpful suggestions as I picked up litter. :) 

One of the men, Ted, turned out to have a way of breaking up the blocks of mulch with his bare hands.  Most impressive.  He said they were really cold.  I didn't believe him.  They were!  There was ice in there!  Then he reminded me that way, way back in the early 20th century blocks of ice used to be kept in wood shavings for delivery to home iceboxes.   The wood shavings kept the blocks of ice from melting before they were delivered.   The joys of early refrigeration.  Who knew? 

After about 3 1/2 hours of tidying, mulching, digging, raking and entertaining passing pedestrians, we retired to a local restaurant/coffee shop for some well-earned food, discussion and rest.  Not only was the work satisfying to our souls, it also gave all of us the chance to hang out with some cool folks.  Afterwards, yes.  The mulch really does make the plots of land around the young trees look nice.  And hey, a litter-free street.  Looked really great.  So.  I am a new advocate for the judicious use of fresh mulch in the Spring (and strong hands to break it up if it's frozen!).

 

Magic Sunglasses

I drove to the park the other day to get a solid walk in without neighborhood Andrettis threatening my well-being or choking me with diesel exhaust fumes.  The sun was shining, the sky was blue with a number of wispy clouds floating overhead, and the temperature was perfect.  As I drove in to the parking area, I happened to glance up, and nearly fell out of the car. 

Up in the sky was the most delightful smear of cloud reaching from one side to the other, full of color.  It's not a rainbow, it was a huge smear of color.  The greens, amythests and yellows were all reminiscent of the delicate colors found in fluorite crystals.  Yet they were strong enough to stand out against the sky.

This particular cloud was different from those around it.  It was the only one with color.  I looked all over.  No.  This one was special.  It was as though a fragment of the northern aurora borelis had torn off, and been blown down to my part of the world.  It was very delicate, yet the colors were distinct and beautiful.  I was curious though why only I seemed enchanted with this sky display.  There were lots of folks about, the weather guaranteed that.  But no one seemed to see the colors.   After all, many folks will stop for a rainbow, why weren't they stopping for this colorful cloud? 

Could it simply be my sunglasses?  So I removed them.  Instantly, the depth of color disappeared.  The color was still there in the cloud, just very faint.  Actually, they didn't disappear totally, it's just that whatever "they" do to sunglasses to protect our eyes, magnified and deepened the colors present in the cloud.   Sunglasses back on, the colors reappeared! Cool!  On, off.  On, off.  Magic glasses! 

Just to make sure I wasn't hallucinating - after all, anything's possible. :)  I asked a woman walking by in her sunglasses if she saw the colors.  She looked up, and stopped dead.  She had magic glasses, too!  Then when I explained, she peeked without her glasses and confirmed that the colors faded away.  The colorful cloud stayed around for a while, then gradually shredded away into the blue sky.

So there you have it.  Sunglasses are magic.  At least, mine were on Friday.  Beautiful. 

Busting Out All Over!

It literally seems like Nature is busting out all over.  Everything appears to be blooming.  This probably includes some people's allergies, too!  The trees are blossoming in innumerable shades of dark to light greens.  The maples are sporting red blossoms,  the dogwoods and tulip trees are on full display with their Spring flowers.  The daffodils, the hyacinths, the tulips, pansies, etc. are going crazy.  When you drive by plant nurseries, you are assaulted by a riot of color!

All the rhodedendrons are blooming, the weeping (and not weeping) cherry trees are showing off their delicate pinks.  The bushes of bridal wreath are showcasing masses of small white flowers.  Lawns fed appropriately by the many April rains are a deep, fresh green, and the dandelion population of the Northeast is making itself known.  

Not sure if Nature needed our Easter celebrations as a signal, but seemingly overnight, the blossoming exploded.  Throw in the relatively cool temps, the changeable weather, and voila!  Spring!  One of my favorite things is to see the scatterings of tiny flowers on the carpets of green grass.  They flourish with light pinks, purples, yellows, blues and white.  The flowers make the grass look as though someone purposely dusted the lawns with confectioner's sugar - the flowers so tiny and delicate. 

Yes, I sound positively dotty, don't I?  It's just all rather impressive when you take a minute or two, and really look around at all the blossoming going on.  'Course if you're in a city, there's a lot less greenery around to smack you in the face with their sudden flowers.  Have you noticed, though, that the air changes?  It feels softer and gentler.  With the changing light, longer days and gentle breezes, all you want to do is stay outside and wander around - or find the perfect sidewalk cafe and spend the evening there.   After this past winter of record snows, this Spring is very welcome.

There Was A Man

Yes. There was.  And he may be the reason for my long silence.  Tho', in retrospect, he also makes for a good story.  In the common yard area at the north end of my building, I have developed a small garden.  It's small out of necessity because the entire yard (I suspect) was used as the building material dumping ground when they built this place.  You cannot dig more than 2 inches before you are running into old concrete, strange rusted bits of metal, door fixtures and innumerable small rocks.  I discovered this personally whilst trying to make a garden. 

Over the past five years or so, I have dug out the "garbage" and replaced the sand, concrete, etc. with fertilized soil and various plants and flowers.  I now have a small patch of really healthy, dark soil with any number of worms.  (The latter a sign of soil health.)  And, as it's Spring, I've planted it with pansies.  Pansies can withstand the temperature variables of Spring weather, and their flowers are wonderfully colorful.  Recently, I squeezed in a couple of dwarf dahlias, and my daffodils have finally bloomed - so it all looks rather nice.

Well, last week, hearing a voice outside my window, I looked to see who it was.  (I don't get much traffic outside my windows.  I'm lucky.)  There, to my outraged eyes, I saw a strange man casually talking into his phone while simultaneously peeing on my pansies.  Boy, was I pissed!  There's a bunch of grass there, plus several trees - not to mention the side of the building.  Does he choose them? NO!  He chooses my wee garden, and pisses on my pansies! Well!

 I threw open the window and yelled, "WTF are you doing?"  The man ignored me, zipped up and walked away - all the time talking calmly on his cell phone.  He never once looked at me, or possibly even heard me.  Eeeeeee I was vexed.  Once I'd calmed down, and after telling a few folks, and starting to see the funny side - especially the alliteration - I told my sister.  She, who lives and gardens in a large metropolitan city, laughed and said......"Welcome to urban gardening!"   Who knew????

 

Who Is That Woman?

In the pursuit of employment, it is advised that one have a profile on LinkedIn, as it is the premier online connection for millions (if not billions) of people in the work-a-day world.  In addition to having one's professional information profile - which can be a bit of struggle to put together if your strength is being a generalist - it is recommended that one put up a photograph of oneself, too. 

Over the past several months I have enlisted various friends, at various times, to take my picture for this purpose.  They have all been fabulous at taking my picture.  The only problem is that their idea of how I need to look is wildly different, in some cases, than how I would like to look.  Then again, there is that small matter.  Really, it is insignificant.... That small matter in which I really don't see myself all the time, especially compared to what other's see.  So, when a picture is taken, they (all very discriminating people) usually find one or two that they feel shows "me."  The "me" that they know.  And there's the rub.

The "me" that they know, is not the "me" that I know. In fact, it has been rather a shock to see myself the way everyone else sees me.  (And digital high definition definitely takes getting used to! lol)  My image of "me" is quite different than the reality of what they see - as shown in the photos.  Also, I'm beginning to discover, that my image of "me" changes with the age and the personality of the person with whom I am spending time.  I forget me.  So, to see me as others do is rather suprising.

A very kind photographer whom I met at my last job, offered to take my photographs since I was despairing of my friends' results.  Yesterday, I went to visit Robert, and he shot a whole bunch of photos.  He has a marvelous way of making you relax and enjoy yourself - even whilst being immortalized by digital pixels.  The photographs are marvelous.  I just don't recognize the person in them!  That can't be me.  And, if it is me, when did I get that pronounced squint in one eye?????  It's not there today! That woman can't be me, can she?  

Two of the wonderful photos taken yesterday now grace my LinkedIn and Facebook pages.  They don't scare me - much.  So I'm really hoping they won't scare others.   I'm thinking I need to get to know this woman I haven't recognized.  She obviously has some stories I'd like to hear.

Lovely, Lovely Day

Spring can be so lovely.  Today, even though the wind was chilly in the shade, if you found a sheltered spot, you'd find that the April sun is truly so much warmer than the January one.  The sun, the blue sky and the bracing wind was just so beautiful.  

You can also tell that the season's changed by the return of droves of Canadian geese in the parks.  Yes, it was a snowy winter for us.  But one of the forgotten benefits of all that snow, is that the geese are forcibly reminded that they need to migrate for food.  Thus, for a brief time we can have a poop-free park! 

I am also very happy to have discovered that Spring has not ignored my little patch of ground outside my apartment.  For me, my patch of ground I can see outside my windows is "mine."  I've planted bulbs for the past several years and nothing's come up to my great disappointment.  (I suspect the local squirrels.) It's also on the north side of the building so its exposure to the Spring sun is limited.

Well, today, to my joy, I found two skinny shoots just peeking up out of the soil in my small garden, and a couple of shoots underneath the wee tree which was planted last June.  Yay!  Nature works!  I have no idea what's coming up, but I am looking forward to seeing what grows.  Woe betide to anyone or anything that threatens my shoots.  Why?  They're a reassurance to me, that new starts can happen, hopeful work can yield results, and even more, Spring is here and happening!  To borrow a phrase from Carly Simon "It's coming around again."   Lovely day.

Tweaking My Time Manager

Where have I been?  Well, I've actually been here, so-to-speak, on this computer, on these keys pretty solidly for the past week.  I have taken breaks for sleeping, exercising, eating, running errands and occasionally staring out the window!  But never far from here - just far from this blog.  My mind's been running at high speed on many levels.  It's sorting things out so they are most effective - which has been challenging.  Why?  Because none of those "things" are solid, like socks. :)  Each of those things is a thought or concept, and each requires organization rather like a jewelry heist.   Am I?  No.  Sadly, my life is far more pedestrian at the present time.   On the other hand, certainly would be fun to figure out the logistics of a good heist!  Ewan MacGregor would have to be my co-star in the movie.  Hmmmm.

What am I doing?  I am in the throes of electronically branding myself so that I may encourage someone to hire me on a full time basis.  Or even, a part time basis.  This branding of my electronic presence is challenging me to reassess my past and my present to discover my professional diamonds. (Yes, obviously, I have jewels on the brain.  Sigh.)  It's kind of fun.  I've been reminded of things I'd forgotten all about.  And there've been some fun memories to which I've been re-introduced.  Then, I've added them online to various databases. 

'Course the question looms as to whether all this database information allows me any flexibility to either change my goals or brand.  Chameleons (sp?) or people aspiring to change as they grow should probably never fill in a Lindedin Profile or get too heavily into Facebook. Why?  Because the Internet search engines never seem to gracefully dis-remember what you said at one time.  So I am being a bit careful as to what goes on there.  For I am now writing in the world's history book.  The Internet has become an international journal of life, as we know it, on a daily basis.  And I'm finding it very time consuming.

That's why I need to tweak my time manager persona into organizing and controlling these ephemeral online timestreams.  Otherwise, my laundry will not get done, the floor won't be washed, and most importantly, I'll forget to go out and meet people in person for interviews or even lunch! Good lord!  Is that the time???  I'll see you soon.

The Deliciousness of the Sunday New York Times

Yes.  For me, the Sunday New York Times is delicious.  Why?  Well for one, I picked up the great pile of paper this past Sunday with a latte, as a treat.  I haven't picked one up in a couple of months.  Partly cost-savings, but more, laziness.  Sunday mornings I like to take very sloooowwwly.  Dashing off to get the paper doesn't easily fit in there!  Why a paper?  Because I grew up with my parents still getting the local daily paper to read in the evenings.  On Sundays, they'd get the local paper plus, the New York Times.  It was a huge paper with seemingly the whole world inside.  Before the World Wide Web - the New York Times is where we'd find out what was going on 6,000 miles away!  The paper helped to make Sunday mornings special.  We'd have a big breakfast with bacon, eggs, toast, fried tomatoes and sometimes, kidneys.  (English, remember???)  It was all very mellow and very different from the workaday world's bustle. 

Now, like everyone else, I usually get most of my news from the Web or from television.  Honestly, that's all I need to work my days.  I'll check the weather; make sure that no one's planning immediate destruction of me, mine and my neighborhood; find something salacious to think about, or be entertained by; see who's disgraced themselves today in the eyes of our puritanical society; and then check to see what my favorites are up to - be they on Facebook, email, or a sports team, my special charity, etc.  I really like being able to stay in touch with folks within a second if they're online, or a window of maybe 12 hours, if they're not.  I am all for progress.  With the internet I can easily live on the surface of life.  There are times, however, I crave more than the surface of things.  As you can see by my first paragraph, the New York Times does fill a certain nostalgic sensory memory for me.  Sunday morning was family time, generally free from most of the family dynamics that made the rest of the time - well, let's say challenging. 

The biggest benefit then, as now, is the depth of information found within the pages of the New York Times.  It has lots of news sections covering a myriad of interests, so that one can explore other worlds. And, there are usually enough sections so that you can share.   Once you finish reading your favorite, you then pass it on to the next person waiting for it.  We weren't a sports-oriented family, so that section usually came last.   However, there was fierce competition for the front page/news section, Science/Technology, and the Arts and Leisure sections.   You would settle in with a fresh cup of tea or coffee, grab your section of newspaper, and then just sink yourself into the paper for a deeply satisfying read.  And the Sunday New York Times is so big, you can easily take a couple of days to read it fully. 

I've learned a lot from the Sunday New York Times.  I learn a lot daily from the Internet.  But for sheer chewy satisfaction in information gathering, and a pleasurable time spent relaxing away from the constant media bombardment of today's world, I've got the Sunday New York Times.  What's even better - is no one is tracking my reading! lol.  I highly recommend you try it one Sunday - well, if you like to read.  Yes, perhaps the Sunday New York Times is a luxury in today's electronic world, but to me, a very desirable one.

Learning Curves and 92 Year Old Ladies

I have come out of my cave (or been returned to the planet by the aliens) and finally have signed myself up for Facebook.   It's almost overwhelming the number of folks on there!  And a LOT of fun.  Four hours easily disappeared yesterday as I stumbled around the site, took my webcam photo (v. grainy) and, I hope! sent a few messages to a few folks.  Not really getting the ettiquette of the whole thing but am sure that will come.  After seeing my afternoon disappear, I was temporarily buffaloed as to how one's to handle the time commitment involved there!  Plus one's emails, and other websites and still remember to eat! LOL. 

Mind you, it's also very spooky to sign up for a site and have dead friends pop up to "friend" you.  I wonder if the Facebook folks will do anything about people who don't access their page for years.  Maybe have an automatic delete on profiles after 3 years.  Otherwise, there's going to be this sea of information from dead people floating around the Web forever.  There they all are just "waiting" to ambush family and friends, or even, the grand kids.  Well, it's a kind of immortality I suppose.  It's vaguely Twilight Zone-ish - all these personality profiles living on in electronic space.

Then there are the notifications that suddenly pop up on my iTouch, even when it's playing music.  The music fades away so the notification pops up.  Or I'll have put my iTouch in standby mode, and left it on a table across the room only to have it beep at me.  It's creating a whole new world for me!  It's great being in instant touch with someone three thousand miles away.  'Course, I need to be careful before I post on others' walls - the words will probably be there for eternity too! 

Now.  As to those 92 Year Old Ladies.
Last Friday I found that one, a neighbor had just moved out to a convent in Pennsylvania to be cared for by the nuns there.  All she took with her was her bed, TV, nightstand, a lamp and her recliner.  She left everything else behind.  (Yes, I went to have a peek.)  I mean everything - there were photographs, old souvenirs of trips taken, books, letters, clothes, vases - all things that I consider necessary as part of my life.   Talk about paring down your life, she left very happily with the bare necessities.  There's a certain freedom in that isn't there?  No possessions to hold you back.  She was off to wait out the end of her life there.

The other?  That's my stepmother.  On Friday she got married to a gentleman with whom she's shared company for the past four years.  They were both in World War II though on opposite sides.  She served in the Canadian Red Cross and he served in the German Army.  What's striking to me is that my stepmother and, now, father are very enthusiastic about any and all new things.  They love to explore and discover new things.  They have a very youthful attitude towards living even with some physical challenges.  For them both, all things are possible.  Only their physical fraility may hold them back a bit.  It's very inspiring.  I know which 92 year old lady I'd like to be. 

Mother Nature Shrugs, and Japan's In The Way

Well, I had planned to whip off a rant or two here, or throw in some reflections about how the U.S. Postal System is it's own worst enemy, or talk about two ladies I know who are 92 years old - and I may yet.

For now...I am just blown away by the videos and pictures coming out of Japan after the earthquake and tsunami.  Yes, it's happened before in Southeast Asia, but there was almost no video coverage at the time.  We really only saw the heart-rending aftermath. 

Today, people took realtime images of the earthquake's effects whilst it was happening, and watched the actual tsunami as it made its initial incursion into Japan.  (Yes, initial.  Like earthquakes, there can be "after" waves as well.)

We actually see a ship caught in a gigantic ocean whirlpool, we see cars and trucks attempting to drive away from the onrushing water, only to be overtaken, and swallowed.  We see a violently swollen river filled with innumerable cars as they tumble along like toys in the rushing water.   We see enormous fields of floating debris including trees, cars, trucks, broken houses burning as they are pushed along by tsunami waters.  The scale of the devastation is damn near impossible to comprehend.  What's even sadder, is to know - logically - that too tiny to see amongst all the debris and the water - there are people there.  Or at least there were people there.  For those caught in the tsunami's torrent, I hope it was a quick ending. 

Japan has been deeply struck. However, they are an amazingly resilient people.  They managed to come back from the Atomic Bombs that the United States dropped on them in World War II.  Today, they have the technology, the know-how, the history and the resilience to survive if Nature allows them to do so.  My heart goes out to them.  I wish them well. 

Good Morning!

Good Morning, to you.  Yes it is.  After a sleep, I am feeling better.  And I have to laugh a little at myself.  You see I've been reading a book called The Four Insights: Wisdom, Power and Grace of the Earthkeepers by Alberto Villoldo, Ph.D.  In the book he explains that we are the author of our experiences.  Thus, if we are having a difficult day or days or life, he says that indicates that there is some inbalance within us that remains unhealed, for the universe only reflects back to us how we live and think.  He says at one point "When we become peace, serenity and abundance, these will prevail in our lives."  After my last post, you can see that I have a ways to go! lol. 

It may seem like so much "mumbo jumbo" to some.  I feel it is a worthy goal.  Why not believe that we can dream/create a world of peacefulness, joy and abundance by incorporating it into our lives?  It is as good a plan as any, and far less harmful than many currently in vogue.  I prefer to avoid living my life as a victim of circumstance - as so many people have resigned themselves to be.  Far better to believe in one's power to create a world of good, and live in that manner.  And rather than blaming myself for creating noxious circumstances, and suffering, remind myself to look for another way of responding to the circumstances.  Yah - it's getting deep here.  But a worthwhile concept to consider none-the-less. 

I have a third bumper sticker on my car.  It expresses an approach to life to which I aspire.  It says "Whatever you do - is it necessary, truthful and kind?"  An old friend of my parents saw it recently and said, "Oh, I don't want to have to work that hard."  Is it really hard work?  Or is it simply a matter of staying conscious of one's thoughts and actions.  I think it is a choice.  One can simply relax back into the way things "always are" and let themselves be storm-tossed by supposed circumstance - or - one can choose to practice consciousness, and make the world their own.  It takes a certain amount of courage and trust, I imagine.  I'm still working all this out for myself. 

 

Grumble, Grumble, Grumble - Pah!

And, for good measure....Bah Humbug!  Actually I'd say a LOT more a lot more forcibly and "colorfully" but it wouldn't be seemingly.  It's probably because I'm feeling crappy today.  It's just seems that the universe is ignoring all my attempts to act kindly, lovingly and consciously so that it might beam it back showing me a kinder world.  No.  For some reason, lately, people seem to be acting more thoughtlessly than ever.  Maybe they've been infected with "end of the world" fever and therefore, they've decided to not bother with common courtesy and be civilized any longer.  Yes.  Judgment here.  In spades.  I admit it.

Maybe it is simply the overwhelming greediness of the oil companies who keep jacking up our gas prices "because of Omar Quaddaffi" - pah! the oil companies have masses of oil reserves.  They just want to keep making a profit at our expense.  Moreover, our congressional and senate "representatives" in Washington, D.C.  seem to be quite happy letting them do so.  No one with any power is showing any interest in reigning in oil prices within the United States borders.  So who pays?  Those who can least afford it.  Us.  Let's blame the situation in the Middle East.   Why?  It's so much easier than accepting responsibility for looking after ourselves and our livelihoods. 

And the blatant redundancy of government spending is another peeve of mine.  I was shadowed along the Post Road recently by a brand new, huge SUV in spotless white paint and blue letters which announced it was the "POLICE"  and "Homeland Security."  So yes, now we have the NSA, the CIA, the FBI, the DEA, the Immigration Police, the Armed Forces (and all their Reserves), 50 sets of State Police, and then the local municipality police forces - all to protect the masses - from each other and the world.  I'm sure I've missed a lot of agencies of which I am ignorant.  Sadly, we, the citizens, rarely get to see any visible benefit. 

There is so much redundancy in law enforcement agencies that they actually start having pissing matches over who is going to handle what - especially if it is an "exciting" matter.  The sad thing is that all that money spent on all those different agencies would probably be better spent if they were consolidated.  And maybe, just maybe, some extra money would make its way down to the local municipalities who are starved for cash to run their police departments. 

O.k. I'm done for now.  Hopefully a good night's sleep will lull me back into serf-hood where I will happily accept whatever the universe (including those folks that control my taxes, oil prices, food prices, earnings, environment and entertainment) deems acceptable for my consumption.  And like a good citizen, I will let them milk me until there's nothing left.  After all, the birthrate is up, there will be other poor schmucks to milk soon enough.  Aaargh. 

Snow Being

It's one of those odd days today.  I'm itchy in my skin.  Not jumpy, just unable to settle anywhere and concentrate on something.  Anything.  It may be because I have a "to do list" a mile long which basically entails a LOT of thoughtful paperwork without quick resolution.  Can't really say I'm restless, it's just an under-the-skin itchyness running through my nerve endings.  Maybe I am.  Completing the physical tasks I had to do just isn't doing the trick either.  Oy.  So, short of pounding on my standing bag to exhaustion, and disrupting the entire end of my building (not to mention setting back my recovery from my carpal tunnel surgery), I took my twitchy self to a nearby beach for a walk. 

It ended up being more of a non-walk.  It was too bloody cold out in the wind along the water.  The sun had long gone with the clouds building up for another weather-maker tonight and tomorrow.  All the color has been leached out of the landscape.  Everything appears lifeless.  Even the evergreens'  green-ness was lackluster.  Out beyond the seawall, sandwiched between grey water and grey sky, a fishing boat silently moved in large slow circles.  There were no other souls out.  The wind was cruel.  It was raw and biting, cutting away at any exposed surfaces.  My scarf, hat and gloves really didn't seem to make much of a difference at all.  Bitter, bitter air. 

There is still a lot of snow pack around, and near the end of one walkway, there was a drift caught up against the boulders at the turn.  I discovered the snow was perfect for snowball making, or snowman making, for that matter.  So I grabbed huge handfulls and made meself a snowball which then went arcing out over the water only to smash on that steely greyness.  Nope.  Didn't satisfy.  Then, looking at a flat-topped boulder beside me, I wondered what a snowball would look like on there.  Lonely.  So I made another, and another wondering where I was going with this.  They looked kind of cool on the boulder, but were still just snowballs on a rock.  Next, I piled four on top of each other straight up - snow is a cool playdoh when it's the right temperature.  Good start, but still lonely.   Next, three up on each side - the left leaning a bit drunkenly.  I liked it.  Still boring, though.  Then, I curved the right and left columns into the body of the four snow balls, and they ended up looking like long arms reaching down to the rock.  Much better.

There were no longer snowballs on a boulder.  Instead, the snowballs had become this long-armed,  enigmatic being looking out over the water.  It is about a foot and half feet high - brilliantly white against all the greyness surrounding it, and strangely shaped.  The figure looked almost like a children's toy, but all in snow.  It looks wonderfully out-of-place and rather strange.  Oh sure, it will probably wash away in the rain tomorrow.  Or someone will knock it down.  But just for now, or a little while though, my snow being will be a visual puzzle for anyone who walks along the same path.  "Who made that?  Why???" 

As I walked back to my car, I kept turning around to check on its visability.    My snow being stood out for its oddness alone.  It is not expected.  I am delighted with it.  Makes me wonder, too, if any long ago ancient with a sense of mischief ever created a stone figure simply for fun - only to befuddle and confuse our current day archeologists trying to find meaning in it.   The twitchyness is still here within me, but I feel a bit better for making my mark with the snow being, no matter how transient.

50 Degrees and Snow Shoeing

Today, the sun was out and the temperature was a positively balmy 50 degrees Farenheit.  In other words, toasty compared to the past 8-9 weeks.  So, I celebrated by doing something I'd been wanting to do all winter - well, to this point in the winter.  I went snow shoeing.  (Yes, the "shoeing" looks odd, but I looked it up and it seems to be o.k.  Who knew?)  I also wanted to get out on the snow at this particular State Park before all the snow disappeared.  Who knows if it will come back.  Off I went.

It was lovely.  Yes.  The snow has melted to the ground in many places esp. around the bases of most trees, but there were also large swathes of deep snow left upon which I could "shoe."  Many of them right out in the sun, so the accumulation must have been quite impressive after the last snow storm.  In some places the snow is still higher than the picnic bench seats.  Oh no - it wasn't soft powder by any means.  The snow was very wet, verging on slushy which made walking a fun challenge - and, a good work out!  What was neat to see was that every where a leaf, a twig, a pine needle, a seed or a branch had landed on the snow's surface, each had sunk into the snow by about an inch or so in a perfect impression of the leaf, twig, etc. with the warmth. 

The weather was a delicious respite from winter.  It's going to get cooler again starting tomorrow, but for today, it was perfect.  The park was busy!  Everyone came out to bask in the sun and walk the newly snow-free paths.  No earmuffs, no hats, no scarves, no heavy coats, no mittens, no heavy sweaters - there really are a lot of clothes needed to stay warm!  So I enjoyed a half hour toddling around on the snow, under the trees, scaring the geese and making the first human impressions across the melting snow fields.  I am very fortunate.  Thank goodness for State parks, they really do provide a respite from the busyness of the modern world. 

Valentine's Thaw

Happy Valentine's Day!  We're all rather happy around here - the temperature is moderating and the snow pack is melting.  Everyone's walking with a lighter step, wearing less clothing, faces have lost that pinched look, and there seems to be a more casual approach to driving.  The last may be a bit premature.  Yes, we can all stop white-knuckling it, but the roads are still unnaturally narrow in places with stray patches of ice to wrack one up. The snow banks at intersections, too, are making sightlines more theory than reality.  You can see on their sides - like geological strata - the story of a number of storms from the lines of road sand thrown up by passing plows.  But hey, it's Valentine's Day and it is warming up.  Hallelujah! 

It always amazes me that snow arrives in tiny star shapes of candyfloss-like webs of frozen water which weigh barely more than the air.  How quickly the snow can pile up to such an extent it buries us all, in one way or another.  From delicately spun ice stars which start falling in such a gentle way feathering along in breezes, all the way to gale forced torrents of sky confetti - the snow hits the ground and just keeps accumulating till its drifts become as unforgiving as stone.  In its lightest versions, snow decorates, softens and beautifies everything in view.  Masses of it or in its ice forms, it becomes life-threatening depending on the circumstance. 

I was watching the snow clearing efforts in my parking lot during the last storm.  We had started to run out of room to put the snow so that residents could park their cars.  It struck me that we spend millions of dollars on moving, shoving and rearranging this substance to suit our needs.   A substance, moreover, which will disappear in the Spring as though it never existed.  Just for an instant while I watched the snow being plowed, snow became a mythical substance, a magical illusion which we all believe to be real - after all, we can see it, touch it and taste it.  Yes.  In the cold, snow is a force with which we must consider for our safety and livelihoods.  In summer, however, snow would be a magical dream, as ephemeral as smoke.  To someone who has lived their whole life in a warm climate, the whole concept of snow could be science fiction, fantasy, whimsy or the stuff of fairy tales. 

I wish you love and warmth on this St. Valentine's Day.     


  

Will It? Or Won't It? Yes, Snow!

It's been a snowy while since I last posted.  In that time, I think I've written about five posts - all in my head - about snow.  The subject of snow lends itself to a number of themes, all of which are grounded in my now.  Well, to be fair, snow is factoring in everyone's now throughout the middle and northeastern part of the United States.  It's also snowed about three or four more times since my last post, including an ice storm, high winds, thunder, rain and today, something of a thaw, thank goodness.  More is forecast for Tuesday and Thursday.

The weather systems are becoming as regular as clockwork.  Perhaps there is an evil master mind somewhere orchestrating the Winter of 2010-2011 in North America.  Or perhaps it is all being caused by a commercial conglomerate.  Just think.  The food stores are doing a roaring business because we are all loath to go through a snow storm/blizzard without enough food in the "house."  And who's to say that we'll be able to get to the stores after it snows.  Then there are the tools required to deal with snow both for the home, businesses and transportation, and the beat goes on.

Snow is not a villian.  (Yes, even in the face of my reaction at my last post.)  Snow just is.  It happens.  It is a natural phenomena.  Our reactions to snow are what cause us agita - myself included.   I think what has been blowing us all away is the sheer amount of it.  I live in a generally temperate area.  In the past, if it snowed - it did so maybe once or twice.  This year it's been incredibly invasive since the day after Christmas.  There's so much snow that it has become a huge, tangible presence in our lives.  What was first greeted with delight is now greeted with groans.  Not only has the snow changed the landscape, it's changed how we behave, how we exercise, how we eat, how we drive.   It has us on hyper alert.  Basically, it forces us to change how we live, and changing our behavior is not something any of us do willingly.

All this snow is an education.  For some of us, the snowy weather's been a re-education in how snow can really impact our lives and livelihoods.  Snow is also a rather awe-inspiring reminder that there are some things over which we truly have no control.  It also makes me deeply appreciate the fact that I do not live in a place where 10 to 20 feet of snow is an annual occurence.   Yes, I am coming to accept the fact that the snow simply is .... and I will now try to dream of sandy beaches, palm trees, soft warm winds and delicious swims.

Snow

At 14" to 19"+ totals - to several feet high - depending on where the storm last night decided to leave it.  And this on top of the snow that's come before.  Temperatures have been too cold to melt it to any degree.  This makes storm Number 6 for the winter season. 

The snow's been storming since Christmas.  Seemingly it's been falling every week.  In addition to the traffic woes, cabin fever is on the rise!  We usually don't get any significant snow til February.  And it's not quite the end of January (assuming Mother Nature cares for calendars).  Yes, snow is beautiful if you don't have to deal with it or employers.  It's also a great bloody nuisance in the amounts that we've been getting. 

None of us realized we'd migrated to the Artic Circle.   O.K. an exaggeration.  The joy's worn off for everyone over school age. Instead, to borrow from Charles Schultz' Charlie Brown cartoon...... "Aaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhh!"

Other Handedness

Without anything happening to our "main" hand, we never give any thought to all the uses for which we use our hands.  My surgery was to my right hand, my dominant hand which I usually use without any thought for a myriad of things.  And if there's a choice to be had between hands, the right one usually gets volunteered before I even have to think about it.  Its fine motor skills are highly developed.  My left hand is usually there simply to add balance, strength and holding skills.  It excels at holding things.  The fine control, and decision-making, if you will, is left with my right hand.   

What's so amazing to me is the degree of conscious attention I have to give my "other" hand to do some of the simplest of things.  For instance, holding a knife and buttering toast.  I find I need to angle the butter dish the opposite way, get the butter on the other side of the knife and then butter the toast.  However, I've found the simple act of buttering is also very difficult.  I end up fiercely staring at my left hand while heavily concentrating on applying pressure while I attempt to make smooth stroking motions.  Mind you, this is assuming the butter is soft.  If the butter is fresh out of the fridge, you're in deep trouble.

Except for sneezing, everything takes so much longer.  Like brushing my teeth.  If I'm not careful, assuming I manage to hold onto the brush, I end up brushing my cheeks or over compensating on the pressure and jamming the durn thing against my gums which is very painful!  And try cutting some food or fruit using a knife with your other hand.  It's a whole new adventure.  For me, it was like my left hand was divorced from my body.  It seemed to have no idea how to use pressure while sawing back and forth.  I felt like I was creating new brain neuron pathways through the sheer force of will.  Some times it worked.  Some times, not so much.  For the past week my inability to use my right hand  for eating has reduced me to the skills of a toddler.  I either eat with the fingers of my left hand, try to stab things with a fork, or I need to have my food cut up for me. 

Practice makes perfect.  It's such an old saying, and it's so true.  I'm very fortunate.  My relegation to "other" handedness has been temporary.  And as the time has gone by, my other hand has been able to perform more easily every day.  Once my right hand finishes healing, I'll probably be back to my old, unconscious ways of doing things.  Part of me will miss it.  Why?  It is rather refreshing to have to be so conscious, and concentrate so fiercely.  That intense concentration doesn't allow room for a lot of the nonsense that my mind usually throws at me.  It's also kind of cool to see how you DO get better with time and practice and healing.

Setting The World on Fire

Looking again at the way I'd signed off in my last post, I realized that "setting the world on fire" is something of a misnomer. Usually it's a phrase applied to very young people, graduates of ivy league colleges, game-changing software engineers or meglomanics who want to take out a bunch of people in as painful a way a possible. It probably also features in the dreams of those who feel that nuclear war is a viable option. So I need to come up with another way of describing how I plan on re-launching myself back into the world.

Truthfully, inertia is a misnomer as well. For while I haven't been doing a lot of anything I can point to - like a well-manicured lawn - or, as is the case in winter snow, a well-shoveled driveway - I have been working very hard to change the way I approach the world. I truly believe that whatever attitude, behaviour, action or energy one gives out to the world, you get it returned to you without fail. So it behooves me to approach the world in the best manner I can manage. It makes living that much nicer. And...there is that small matter of healing. Healing after my surgery, definitely. And there's also been healing going on from living in ways that made my life more an obligation than a place where magic is possible.

I've also been learning that there are other ways of living. There are many, many people living in the United States who do not go to an office every morning. Who do you think all those people are out on the streets every day. They can't all be tourists, can they? There are others who work solely from home, creating their schedule as they go. There are others who have jobs that even I don't know about that have them earning a living without wearing a suit-and-tie (or its equivalent) and reporting to the "man" or the "woman" everyday.

Yes, of course, there are many different industries that I haven't even considered. You see, I grew up in an area where the office was king. Everyone (seemingly) aspired to great success in the white collar world wherein money could be made, luxuries achieved and escape from the lower classes was possible. In fact, it was almost a prerequisite for living. [Yes, we do have a class society here in the United States - it's just economic rather than politely correct upbringing as in England. It's more about hard cash than family blood lines.]

Now, I'm not quite sure where I'm going with this. Except I've come to understand that there are other ways of living. I just need to suss them out. I'll let others set the world on fire. One time honored way would be to marry very well - i.e. rich - and not worry about making a living. However, that possibility is not available at the present time - nor am I at all certain I'd be willing to make the requisite trade-offs. I'm a romantic. If I'm to marry, it would have to be for love. Surely there's a place in this world for an honorable woman with a big heart, a facility to learn and grow, a willingness to work hard, who has a desire for variety and an eagerness to live to earn her way in the world - perhaps even thrive.

The secret here is finding that direction. Then who knows? I may just set the world on fire one of these days. To use the old arrow and bow parable (or is it analogy?), once I find my target, I believe the bow will appear to fire me winging on my way. I am creating it.  Should be an interesting ride.

Of Sound Machines and Carpal Tunnels

Quick update on my neighbors and a sound machine. For the upstair wanderers who roam about nightly above my head - whether sleepwalking or awake - the sound machine definitely helps. Either that, or since I got my sound machine (which, as far as I can tell, is a small fan in a plastic casing that creates steady noise), they've found a way to sleep through most of the night. Whatever. I'm happier with the machine. You know - law of averages - that if I stopped using the machine, they'd be up wandering about more frantically than ever before through the wee hours. (I was going to say Stygian darkness to sound v. impressive, but any one who's lived in a condominium complex knows that it's never that dark - except possibly in a closet.)

Now, as to carpal tunnels. They are the areas in our wrists (if you're human) resembling a tunnel through which our nerves and blood vessels flow. For whatever reason - my hand surgeon says there is no definitive cause - I have managed to have bi-lateral carpal tunnel syndrome. That means my carpal tunnel areas in both wrists are inflamed which causes pressure on the nerves. The result is numbness in both hands, most specifically in the first three fingers of each hand. It's most apparent in the fingertips. Untreated, the nerves will die. So, surgery was called for. I'll let you look it up. It's a very simple day surgery.

Yes, it is simple surgery, but it is surgery. When I was discussing this all with my hand doctor, it all made sense and so we went forward with it this past Friday. Then on Saturday after the anesthesia finally wore off, it dawned on me that my hand really hurt, had a large wrap on it and I really needed to treat it carefully. There's also been the small matter of doing everything one-handedly. O.K. No big surprise there, it's just that I'd been thinking about the pros and cons for so long, the whole process became more hypothetical than real. So much so, that I've been a wee bit bummed with the fact that I need to give my hand time to heal. Oy. I'm also a bit spooked at the bruising that's growing up from the dressing. Reality vs. hypothetical.

All in all, the whole process has been very good. My hand is healing well. I swear my fingers are already feeling better. Sore palm, happy fingers - which is good, 'cause otherwise this post would be taking all afternoon to type without a little assist! Now...just need to get the other wrist done. When? Probably in a month. Thinking again. The difference here is that this time I have the surgery, hopefully, I'll be more prepared for the patience I need to have with myself to heal afterwards.

Then, with freed nerves, I can get out of this incredibly attractive inertia, and start setting the world on fire - metaphorically speaking!

Neighbors

Neighbors are a fact of life. Well, unless we live in the middle of a dessert. We all have neighbors. Some, more than others. Me? Until recently, although living in a condominium (formerly an apartment) complex, I only had two immediate neighbors. One below, and one on one side, both of whom were single. They also are very quiet. The spaces above me, and on the "other" side have been empty since I moved here six whole years ago. I've been very lucky. And it has been lovely. My apartment has been my retreat, my refuge from the world. In fact, it has been so quiet, I completely overlooked the possibilty of ever acquiring two more sets of neighbors.

I have been very spoiled in my life. The only time where I have lived surrounded by people was in my dorm college room. And honestly, I was never in there except to sleep when pretty much everyone else was sleeping. So neighbors were never an issue. Before six years ago, I've always lived in places with other folks, but I was always on the top floor and, at most, always had just one immediate neighbor. So, my experience at hive living has been non-existent. Yes. Hive living. Like bees. An apartment building (whatever it's legally called) is like a hive where everyone lives going about their business. And the constant busy-ness is very much like a hive where there's always some activity going on with the worker bees. The only difference being no queen.

So you see? Complacency can be a dangerous thing. In December, rather like early Christmas presents, I got two new families as immediate neighbors - above, and next door. It's amazingly challenging to me.

Upstairs, they are generally very quiet except for their penchant for dropping things. What's challenging is that at night, they only seem to sleep for 3 hours before getting up and running around over my head (dropping things) for about an hour each time. (Yes, sadly I've watched the clock - royally ticked off.) If I'm lucky, I'll maybe get 6 hours of sleep. My sister who's been "hive" living for years poo-poos my reaction. She basically told me to suck it up, and get ear plugs and a sound machine. The art of napping is looking more and more attractive. Now, if only I can do that at work.

As for my new next door neighbors, they are lovely people. They just tend to live their lives at extremely high volume. Especially the 5-year old girl who only seems to be able to communicate by shrieking. Happy, sad, terrified, busy, it's always in shrieks. Life is often conducted in the hallway directly outside my front door before slamming theirs. Contentiously, the mother and father will yell at the children from their bedroom (which is on the other side of my living room wall). Alternatively, they have a noisy bedroom life which can be disconcerting in the evenings while I'm trying to work or wind down for bed.

My sprititually-minded friends like to remind me that challenges help to teach us to grow and become more tolerant of others. I understand this concept in theory. My sister says I need to learn to live with my neighbors' noise. Obviously, I'm on a steep learning curve, because so far I've been simply sleep-deprived and cranky.

It's Twelfth Night!

Today is "Twelfth Night!" (or 12th Night). I've always liked 12th Night because it extends Christmas for me. Also, remember the song "Twelve Days of Christmas" wherein the singer had received a whole crowd of folks, animals and things by the 12th Night? Someone had to put a stop to it somehow. The composer had probably been crowded out of house and home by that time! 12th Night is also known as "Epiphany" and the "Feast of the Three Kings." All of which are variations on various Christian themes. Tho' according to Wikipedia, the celebration may also have its roots in Celtic or Roman pagan observances which predate Christianity.

In spite of the fact that my parents were both raised with comprehensive training in the Anglican church, our family usually celebrated the main holidays (or holy days) in a much more pagan fashion. (Still do.) By the time my sister and I arrived on the scene, religion was no longer observed in our house. However, in my parents' English/Irish cultural lexicon (duly inculcated upon us children), 12th Night signalled the end of the Christmas season. They taught us that 12th Night marked the time when all one's Christmas decorations needed to come down, and be put away for another year.

12th Night was made ceremonial by the giving of one last gift (if you wished) to each other, a special dinner was made to mark the occasion, and sometimes, Christmas music would be played. Afterwards, all the Christmas decorations were put into boxes to go to the storage room the next day, and the tree was relegated to the garage where it would wait to be taken to the town chipper to become mulch. (A practice I heartily endorse in the spirit of recycling and renewal.) When we finished, the house would look weirdly naked - not to mention, really boring to my young eyes. Fortunately, my parents would keep the outside lights on in the evenings 'til the end of January, so the transition didn't feel so completely damning.

These days I tend to stretch the meaning of 12th Night to the following weekend simply because a mid-week celebration is sometimes impossible to pull off. As long as the Christmas tree hasn't become a fire hazard, I figure we're good. And I confess - since the early winter evenings can be very gloomy and depressing after the joy of Christmas - often, I will keep the Christmas lights up in my window through February to give me something cheery to see.

Happy 12th Night to you all! So long Christmas spirit. See you next time.