It's that time of year

I notice I don't have half as many updated blogs to read lately. Everyone seems to suffer a slump this time of year.

Even my own blog bores me silly. Let's face it, when you're reduced to blogging about Medicare and the stocking caps you own, it's a desperate situation.

Cliff and I do take our daily walk, covering our mouths and faces in the coldest weather. Sadie doesn't even notice the temperature, but romps and chases after sticks as usual. I could tell you stories about her (with illustrations or videos) but it's all been done and seen before.

I take my camera everywhere, but nothing seems camera-worthy. The landscape is dull brown; the sun doesn't shine. I'd love some snow, but I'm not optimistic that we'll get enough to brag about.

Cliff, who could never understand my preoccupation/addiction to the Internet in the past, spends four hours at a time on the laptop surfing Craigslist and Yesterday's Tractors. What else can one do when it's this cold? He went to clear brush Saturday, but his feet got numb after an hour or so. Yesterday I said to him, "That laptop is a nice little time-passer, isn't it?"

And he agreed.

Today we went to Sam's Club, Cliff, Rena and I. I didn't need a thing; I just wanted to do something outside this house. I bought some oranges and strawberries, hoping those would give me a taste of sunshine.

Rena treated us to lunch at Smokestack Barbecue; I ordered fried cauliflower and made it my entire meal: I love that stuff!

Time does drag, this time of year. I guess at my age, that's a good thing; might as well make what's left of my life stretch out a little longer.

I'm going to sit down with my guitar and sing a few folks songs and ramble down memory lane. Perhaps I'll conjure up some long-forgotten tale from my past.

Oh, so THAT'S it!

I've started two blog entries today that I decided weren't worth the effort after a couple of sentences and hit "cancel". (I know, I know... I should do that more often, right?).

I've really had a case of the blahs, lacking motivation to do much of anything.

So a while ago I checked in on Patrick and realized the problem. Today is the most depressing day of the year. Oh, and to top it off, there's THIS.

Now that I know it's not just me, I'll crawl back into my hole and hibernate until the Muse appears again.

Thanks a heck of a lot, Patrick. I've heard that misery loves company.

*sigh*

There's lots of blues in Blogville

After reading over this entry, I realize it may sound a little "preachy", which isn't my usual style. Consider yourself warned: some of my readers may want to skip this one.

We're having a genuine winter here in Missouri, with very few breaks between the cold spells. I count my blessings daily, and they are many; but I confess that it's sometimes hard to stay chipper on these bitterly frigid days, with all the extra bills that come flooding in at this time of year. Add to that the rising price of gasoline, propane and groceries.

I've noticed, while surfing through my favorite blogs, that I'm not the only one who's a little "down in the dumps".

When I open my Bloglines each morning, there aren't half as many new entries as there normally are. And I've added a lot of new blogs lately, so there should be more than in the past.

This doesn't help the situation: Cliff and I hear of the death of somebody we care about every week or so, of late. I realize that goes with the territory when you're past sixty years old, but it isn't a thing a person gets used to. We had a discussion yesterday about how it could be either of us next, at any moment. The older we get, the more likely it is that our number will be up.

As a Christian, I believe in life on the other side of the grave. But as a human, I'm in no hurry to leave this poor, battle-scarred body.

Cliff and I used to laugh at my mom who, in her eighties, after being widowed for the second time, would sometimes say with a sigh, "Why can't I just die?"

But at the first tornado watch of spring, she was running to the basement.

I can imagine myself in her shoes nowadays.

Spring will come again. Chances are, I'll have several more weeks, months, or even years to share my life with my friends through my blogs.

The best I can do is to take this day and live it to the fullest.

For this day, I can try not to be judgmental (which is probably my worst fault). I can do my best to see troubled people the way Jesus saw them when He walked the earth... the way He still sees us, I'm sure: "When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd."

In the words of the old song: "Life's evening sun is sinking low; a few more days and I must go."