Signs of Spring

Today, as I was out walking the pup in some freezing drizzle (ugh), I realized I was looking at the normal snowdrifts and piles and seeing, not just frozen wasteland, but foreshadowings of Spring.

I looked at the balcony and noted the neat lineup of pots, ready for planting with flowers and herbs.

At the end of the walkway, I saw more than a pile of snow: I perused the dried remains of last summer’s butterfly bushes… and started thinking about what I’d plant there in a few months.

12 weeks, really. That’s all. And a week goes by so quickly; it’ll be here before I know it.

Thank you, Snaps, for getting me outside so I could think about Spring and new life today. I certainly needed it. ❤



Where to start?

Well, on the cusp of dramatic change again here. Mom and Dad left for Florida this morning, so – except for a much-anticipated visit from me in late December – I won’t see them until April. Ugh. I realize how much they ground me and emotionally bolster me when they’re not around… the phone just isn’t the same. More, I really *like* them and enjoy their company (even when, as yesterday, Dad opens a political discussion I’m not interested in pursuing, and things get a little unfortunate). Man. I need to make some new friends.

I’ve tried a few friend liaisons, but nothing really satisfying or lasting so far. Murph. So frustrating, but – and I keep reminding myself of this – in some ways, I’ve cast off (and been cast off by) so many trappings and traps of my former life, that this is the obvious time to rebuild, reload, reformat.

To change it up.

Pursuant to this, I am finally and well and truly done with a former co-worker’s shenanigans. Her frequent mean-spirited hysteria, the blindsides aimed at manipulating me into this or that behavior, the gaslighting intended to make me feel incapable and insane, and the just plain abuse – I’ve reached a level of dull, uncaring just-don’t-give-a-shit-anymore that makes it difficult for me to raise a work ethic. And I can’t bear to watch myself burn out this way, simply through the desensitization of dealing constantly with a conscienceless narcissist. If I can’t rekindle my love for dance, better that I leave it or at least change how I participate. It’s been 15 years in February; perhaps it’s time to do something new.

I’ve been defending my passion vehemently for the past year, but I’ve also been watching, with unease, my creeping exhaustion with the personality issues involved in this line of work. Add to that that I’m just not as good at it as I’d like to be – my body is increasingly ill-suited to the flexibility and stamina demands, and especially so as I fight chronic pain, arthritis, and the seemingly-inevitable tip over into winter depression.

So what does my future hold? Perhaps a change in work. Perhaps a change in residence, at least for a while. Certainly a change in me, continuing with the force of the encroaching tide: subtle but unstoppable. I wouldn’t go back to the woman I used to be, even if I could.

What I want out of life: passion, joy, fulfillment, chances to listen to the peacefulness within. I’m slowly peeling away the shells and influences that separate me from these goals, and trying to find better (? newer) avenues.

Here’s hoping.


The word this morning is possibly the most beautiful word in the English language: clear. Text from Mom this morning, still at the hospital where she had surgery last week: “Good news. Clear biopsy report. Go home today.”

Exactly what this means in the long run, I’m not sure yet. But it’s good, and I love good. “Clear” is a good start to be going on with. Now she has three months of ileostomy and then, hopefully, straight on till morning.

I’m so relieved I’m actually having a migraine because of it. lol But what a great reason to have one, right?

(And from the post above, you won’t be surprised that I accidentally posted this to Snaps’ blog initially. :}  )


Photo on 2013-12-30 at 16.03