drivel of various kinds

I began getting seriously depressed in 2020 during the Trump/Covid period; Facebook escalated my moodiness, and it got to the point I would start crying at the least little thing.  The doctor suggested I take Escitalopram to level me out, and within two weeks I felt better about myself and the world in general.  I've been wanting to get off it since last summer, but winter was coming on and I decided to wait until spring. I've been prone to winter depression my whole life, although I never took any meds for it.  But a little over three weeks ago, I began splitting my 10MG pills and just taking half a pill; I did that for two weeks; no problem.  Then I began taking half a pill every other day.  And now I'm off the stuff with no bad consequences.  If I feel the need sometime, I'll get another prescription from the doctor, but I'm hoping I won't. 

The garden is at a complete standstill now.  I won't be planting even one more seed in this desert we're currently living in.  We hopefully check the weather on television and on the Internet, but all we're getting is 10% to 25% chances of spotty rain that never come.  If we ever get a real chance of a decent rain, I may plant something and hope for the best.  So far, it doesn't look good.  I go out every morning with the dog and cat and look at what's there.  The strawberries are blooming like crazy, but we won't get any berries at this rate.  I water the five tomato plants and one hill of 6 corn plants.  That's it.  

I've been walking in the pasture and woods again, although I walk fewer places now and have less hills to climb.  My heart soars when I'm walking barefoot in the cool, green grass; problems vanish... other than the tick I picked up today.  I rubbed insect repellent on my legs up to my knees and thought that would do the job, since I had pants that only went down to my knees.  I suppose he jumped down from a tree limb onto my head.  He hadn't fastened onto me yet, and I sent him to a watery grave.  The grandson said ticks were really bad this year.  At one point in my walk I had a desire to lie down in the grass for a bit; now I'm glad I didn't!

When I was getting ready to go to bed night before last, I heard the Pink Panther theme playing.  I thanked the dear Lord it was my bedtime; my husband has probably seen all the pink panther movies 50 times, and he still laughs so hard watching them that I sometimes think he'll choke.  This morning we were discussing this and he mentioned mentioned that Henry Mancini wrote that song.  I knew he'd written a lot of songs we're familiar with, and googled to find out what some of them were.  Most of them, we found out, were written for movies and television shows; Cliff was positive Mancini wrote Last Date, but I didn't think so.  It wasn't his style.  I went to Google again and quickly learned that Last Date was written by Floyd Cramer, to which Cliff said, "Oh yeah, that's who I was thinking of all along."

What?  How could you possibly get those two confused?  Cramer is country, Mancini isn't, not even a little bit.  However, I did find out that country singer Charley Pride recorded a song Mancini wrote, All His Children:

When you're standing alone
With the mountains and the sea
Where the arms of the world open wide
Where the truth is as plain as the falling rain
And as sure as the time and the tide

You know we're all His children
His next of kin, that's the way it began
No matter where you're going or where you've been
You're part of the family of men

When you walk down the road
And the sun is on your side
With the sweet river breeze for your face
Where you don't hear a sound as you look around
Everything sort of falls into place

You know we're all His children
His next of kin, that's the way it began
No matter where you're going or where you've been
You're part of the family of men

You know we're all His children
His next of kin, that's the way it began
No matter where you're going or where you've been
You're part of the family of men

Kind of pretty, isn't it?