I’m just passed my least favourite part of the day – lunch and its aftermath. I don’t know why that is. Today is the worst. I haven’t fully recovered from my cold. I still have that occasional hard to shake cough, echoing head and the weak in the legs fatigue. I’ve been to the doctor 4 times this month though not all were related to my cold. The garden is begging some TLC. I’ve been poking at it, not even managing to weed my 2 rows of peas along the fence. They’re getting choked out by self-seeded cilantro and weeds. They’re also crying for water though it had rained the other day.

It’s been this kind of a summer. I’m feeling its blues. How could I not? I could be the poster woman for the all year round depressive. No, I’m not ashamed or afraid to talk about it. Maybe I should be  but what’s there to be afraid or ashamed of? I’m acknowledging my feelings and seeking solutions. I’m trying to engage my left brain and right brain in a dialogue with each other. Two halves can make a whole. Two heads are better than one. More is better. I’m trying to console myself. Self love. Talk about euphemism! I’m on a roll.

I think the after lunch dirty dishes, pots and pans are symbols of the mess of life to me. When I look at the whole enchilada scattered on the counters, I just want to close my eyes. My God, how in the hell can I put everything right again? I feel whipped with fatigue and helplessness. There’s nothing to do except sigh and move however I can and at whatever speed I can.

I am always delight in fooling my feelings. I take pleasure in showing them up. I can do more even though they sit on me and try to pull me down in the deep dark hole. Sometimes it seem like I’m moving like a robot. Mechanical is ok. I keep moving until things are done. The dishes, pots and pans are washed. The mess in the fridge calls out to me. I can hear it even with the door closed. That’s the thing. I know it’s there even when I can’t see it. I’ve learned I can rest better when I answer its call. It’s not difficult after all.

I know it’s summer and it’s holiday time. I think I’m suppose to be happy, carefree and having a whole lot of fun. But I was never that kind of a girl. I’m not that kind of a woman. Growing up as a child of immigrant parents in a small town, summer was never what I called ‘fun’. It was lonely. School was over and it seems the whole town was away on holidays except for us. That was my perception at the time.

That is my perception today, too. Everybody is on holidays and having fun, except me. The difference now is I know IT IS NOT TRUE. It’s just my blues vocal of the moment. Tomorrow I could be singing a different tune.



So here it is that after lunch blues time again. I’ve put the dishes in the sink. Pots are soaking. I took time out to make that dental appointment finally. Ugh! I have an aversion to making and going to all kinds of appointments. I’m always in the flux of dismay. I should just get over it. Make the appointment. Go to it. Stop fretting. Stop talking about it. I’ve dug out a few more old nursing textbooks for the recycling bin. My top shelf is almost empty! There is light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe there is a Santa Claus, Virginia.

I’m enjoying my second cup of tea for the day. I’m sipping and tapping away the blues. For every little thing done, I feel just a little better. It is more than good enough. Too much would be overwhelming but I can taste and savour a tiny bit of joy. I will remember it and draw it out in moments on cloudy rainy days. It will be that sunbeam lighting up an idea, a dark corner or whatever that needs brightening.

The dog and I are walked. It has warmed up to 11 degrees C. With the sun out, we and the bedding plants can stop shivering. It will go down to -1 degrees tonight. The plants will have to be brought inside again. That’s how it is with our Canadian climate. At least there’s no snow in the forecast.

It’s 5:30. I’m enjoying my decaf, toast and jam. It won’t spoil my supper. I’ve worked hard, cleaning the oven and racks. It’s one of those jobs you want to turn a blind eye to. I have but today was finally the day. I set my mind to it. It was a lot of muscle and elbow grease. There was no way around it. And those damn racks. If there’s an easy way, please let me know. I don’t like using the self cleaning function. I’m afraid of leaving it on at 900 degrees F for 4 hours. Eeek! It’s like having a bomb in the kitchen. I would be a sitting duck when it explodes.

Ok, so much for the drama. Time to wrap it up. Another day and another month done. Be back next month.