It’s one of those snow falling on cedars days days. The sun is trying to break through the clouds with fluffy white flakes drifting down. It’s kind of pretty, kind of melancholy. Don’t mind me. I’m just a natural born melancholy babe. I’m a broken record. Unfortunately I can’t sing like Judy. But I can dream about somewhere over the rainbow where bluebirds fly and dreams come true.


It’s another day. The sun is out. The sky is bright and clear. I wish my head is too, but alas! It is like a ticker tape with running rhetorics and what have you(s). Ok, I’m being dramatic. I have a sinus cold but nevertheless, my head is thick and hollow at the same time. Nothing coming in and nothing going out.

It is yet another day. I am a broken record. I have lost my way with words and thoughts. It is true. I haven’t been using them, now I’ve lost them. It will be hard work to coax them back. Oh well, I’ve lost heart and passion, too. The world is flat. It will be an uphill climb but I’m up for the challenge. I’ve been forever plodding on this weary road. The habit is in me. It is my Camino de Santiago.

So much for my plans for a heartful February. The best plans of mice and men often go awry. Mine certainly has. It feels that way but feelings are deceiving. Sometimes they are not true. If I am a depressive, I am a highly functional one. What seems like my lowest low can outshine another depressive’s highest high. I’m not bragging nor being facetious. I’m just being truthful. I always try. I’m always on the Camino. It’s just not in me to stop, give up, give in, throw in the towel, pack it in, abandon ship, derail, fall off the wagon…. That’s not how I am.

But I am a melancholic and love sad happy songs. I do wish I could sing. I wish I could sing like this angel.


Beginnings of anythings are hard. Mornings are the best for me. It’s that time before trivia creeps in and fills all the recesses of my mind. They block the flow of oxygen and ideas to my being. But it is so tempting to linger over that cup of tea/coffee and scroll one more page and read another article, then another post. Before I know it, an hour or two have passed. The good/bright ideas/intentions have disappeared. All I’m left is lethargy and annoyance with myself.

I have to be stern with my lagging, sagging self. Nip it in the bud or it could run rampant, like an infection. So here I am, showing up before I get feverish and succumb to another lazy day. Movement begats more movement and energy. I go back to things that work for me, working in small blocks. If I get stuck, I stop and do something else. I’m learning not to sabotage myself. It’s been a long journey of many slow steps. But I am seeing more clearly as I am walking this, my very own Camino Road of enlightenment. No need to go to Spain. I have Sheba to keep me company here on the road.

Now it is 3:30 in the afternoon. I’m pecking/tapping away at my day. An index card painted for 365 Somethings 2018, a photo for April Love , Sheba’s afternoon walk done – these are the sign posts that guide me. They add order and rhythm to my day. In between these projects, the bedding plants are placed onto the deck, getting some natural light, readying for permanent residence out of doors. The deck chairs are rid of their dust and grime. Corners of the deck cleared of last year’s dirt. Screens wiped. Not all finished but a good start. That’s all that is needed. A start and the rest will follow. Repeat this every day.