FROM AN OLD PATTERN BOOK 50

Some days are cold, some are cloudy. The shrivelled leaves are caught in the trees. Seemingly, they don’t have the energy to fall all the way to the ground. We don’t have snow. The sunshine is intermittent and catches us by surprise rather like a sudden light being flicked on in a dark room. We raise an arm to cover our foreheads and venture out. Blinking at first, we decide to go for a walk or putter around the yard. These moments lead to contact between neighbours and exchanged greetings on the Mission Creek Pathway or on the road up Knox Mountain.

hand made card class

But many people I know are sick. Cameron and I have been entertaining a low grade infestation. Just enough of an illness to not feel well and some days waking up to a serious case of the blahhhhs. I am not a winter person although I have chosen to live in Canada since 1972. Most of the winter goes by in a kind of depressed funk. I feel like some English Victorian in a cold moldy house in the country that sits by a feeble light and attempts to write but all is dispirited at best.

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My house is not moldy and it is wonderfully cozy but still the lack of light coming through the windows and the cavelike aspect of winter existence create a decidedly gothic ambience.

Every day, I say to myself that the answer is to get exercise. But for a semi-depressed person to find motivation is difficult. Each morning my intention is to shove off of my couch and briskly move through the cold knives of air.
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I remember our lovely cat who has passed on. The first blast of cold was hysterically funny. She, who had a fear of and an attraction to the out of doors would run like a bullet to the opening between our legs out the door. Sudden shifts in the weather to truly cold would catch her like a wall. Her back legs would continue running because of the velocity she had achieved but her face, neck, chest would collapse into one another as if she had hit an obstruction. Her front legs would plant themselves and her rear would keep going. She would mound up like a slinky toy. Not only was she horrified by the unwelcoming air but now she was humiliated by our laughter. She would attempt to flatten out and turn in a slow dignified manner and then run like hell for a bed with blankets to try to soothe herself from experiencing the horror of winter air.

Perhaps we laughed so deeply because we identified with her.

I have my surgery on Tuesday and will be pretty much down for a while, so the chance to get out and walk should be calling me. But I look out the window and the dullness does not beckon.

Basically, most people in Kelowna turn on the weather network to deal with winter depression. It is rather like someone with arthritis looking at a neighbour with a wooden leg. At least, we don’t have to put up with that, we say in a smug voice.

catching a few rays in our new bathroom

I need to feed my Etsy sight and write Christmas cards today. Wish I felt more like doing things. But it is as it is. The stomach, ears, throat, chest, neck pain, headache all are whining and complaining. At least I am not as sick as some of my friends. We seek solace in comparisons. The deluded mind is well conditioned.