I had ideas and projects for the new year, things to do, goals to accomplish. I expected to get started on them the morning after the ball dropped in Times Square. Instead, I've done nothing. I dropped the ball. There are still gift bows on the dining room table. The bar area of the kitchen counter is covered with mail, mostly advertising flyers that could be dumped into the trash can with one sweep of an arm if I didn't know there are other things buried between the pages and the ripped-open envelopes. A receipt I might need is in that pile. A couple of dollars and a few coins, change from a take-out dinner. A recipe we tried and liked. Nope, it'll all need to be sorted.
I'm eight days behind in my "You Can Draw in 30 Days" workbook. I haven't registered for February classes because I can't remember my membership password and haven't felt like digging around to find the slip of paper I wrote it on. Besides, if I've done virtually nothing in the first ten days of January, why would I think I'll have the energy to take a couple of classes in February? I will, though.
Levi and Gimpy desperately need grooming. All that rolling around on wet grass may feel good in the moment, but it's taken a toll on their curly hair. Their coats are long, thick as wool, and tangled now to the point that combing them is impossible. They need to be shorn like sheep, but there are still too many cold days ahead of us to do that. Instead, I keep their scissors on the table next to my end of the sofa and snip out a tangle here, a mat there, when either of them lies next to me with his head in my lap.
Like everywhere else in the country, we've had record cold weather. Granted, our Southeast Louisiana broken records didn't see temperatures as low as those in the northern part of the nation, but most people here don't have outerwear for weather that hovers at the edge of the teens. It drives us indoors. It drives some of us back into bed, under our electric blankets.
My old, worn-out joints have been achier than ever, especially my right knee, which snap-locks into whatever position I put it in for more than two seconds, then protests vigorously when I try to straighten it or readjust its angle. It hurts like the dickens and makes me walk like Grandpappy Amos of The Real McCoys. That limping thing was a big problem earlier this week when a stomach virus felled me for a day or two. You think "the runs" are bad? Try "the hobbles."
Wah-Wah. (Debbie Downer noise.)
Okay, let's look on the positive side of things:
- That stuff on the table and the bar? Nobody cares. I'll get to it when I get to it.
- Those gift bows that need to be put away? I popped a few gold and silver ones into a round, stainless steel dog dish and took a picture of them. Shiny and pretty!
- The "You Can Draw..." project? I could easily catch up in one day, and the house won't look noticeably worse if I spend a whole day drawing.
- The classes? I love taking classes. They'll get me off my behind when nothing else will!
- The matted dogs? They're happy. They're warm. We'll clip any tight places and get through this tangly season together.
- The weather? It's much warmer today, and the sun peeked through a few minutes ago. It didn't stay, but it reminded me it's there.
- The achy joints? I used to live with those constantly. They got better. They will again.
- The stomach virus? Had it just long enough for Kim to cook me the best chicken soup I've ever tasted--with matzo balls, which I'd never tasted. Delicious.
- Bonus positive item? I've lost eight pounds since January 2nd.
- Second bonus positive item? Kim told me this week that she brought a 10x magnifying mirror with her when she moved in. Look out, ragged eyebrows!
Here comes the sun again. I'm gonna straighten out my leg, then get dressed and take the dogs outside for a good roll in the wet grass.