It may be a mere fifteen degrees out there, but the hyacinths and daffodils are pushing through the mulch. Robins are hopping, I have heard owls calling to each other in the darkness, and the squirrels are chasing each other up the trees and around our garden.
At last, our dreary winter trials are coming to an end. But how have these dark days been spent?
I have gotten through Damp January, my version of giving up alcohol, since my year began with a rather boozy vacation. (This counts, because I so decree it!)
I survived several weeks of two types of annoying viruses that were not Covid, which also made adhering to Damp January very easy—but whatever works, I say.
Going off all allergy medicines was also a snap, since I couldn’t breathe anyway, and that’s what the testing required. But that also led to my conclusion that tennis ball fuzz is my nemesis, regardless of test results, so back on the pills I have gone!
February has been a delight of similar monastic routines.
Soldiering on with indoor golf lessons, I see a glimmer of hope that with practice, it is actually possible to improve in the off-season.
And where would we be without indoor gyms? These places are busier than a Costco parking lot, and even though I haven’t made good on my personal promise to spend time in the lap pool, listening to my Spotify playlist while on a treadmill watching muted television shows I haven’t chosen has proven surprisingly satisfying.
But it’s been books that have truly made this winter special. Lyle Lyle Crocodile for the kids, a carton of Berenstein Bears in the car for commutes, and my book club list have sustained us.
We will do more of the same, as we weather this false spring and hunker down for what’s ahead. This will certainly involve snow.
Yes, we can do it!
We’ve done it all before. ©
