I really do. No matter how much the sun shines, it's too cold outside most of the time to even be out there. My mood and attitude is surly and generally poor, my depression/anxiety is at critical level, and my feet are always cold. I can't seem to drag myself out of the pits no matter what pill I take or what delights I find to buy (retail therapy). All I want to do is sit on the couch, watch brainless crap on TV, and all I want to eat is cheese, chocolate, and ice cream. I tell you, I am a dream to live with in February and March. You want to stay away if you can.
I have uncovered another way LC can use her kitchen slipcover--as a grocery. I'll need to put on more pockets (I always intended to add more) but the back can be her grocery. Look, almost all of her play food fits in the pockets so she can shop and then take it around the other side to cook it. Still haven't gotten to work on her sink, almost 2 weeks of a cold kind of interfered with my creativity in that regard. I'll get there soon. Maybe this weekend if I can pry my keester off the couch.
Our backyard has turned into a dining room for all sorts of critters. In the daytime it's the birds. A gang of Old World Sparrows descends around 8 AM and then again at noon for bathing and eating. They muscle their way onto all of the hanging feeders and try to hog the fallen seed too, shoving around any mourning doves that have the guts to show up. At night it's the bunnies' turn. At least three, sometimes four, nice big fat rabbits come in to eat fallen seed and do a little pre-spring posturing and wrestling. I know this isn't much of a picture but those three brown blobs are bunnies.
Speaking of brown blobs, my Design-a-thon knitting is continuing. I spent so much of last weekend knitting that I'm giving my hands a break this week. With all the tanks I've been filling at work (four of the big ones again on Monday and a few smaller ones too) my hands are a bit achy from all the knitting and valve turning.
February 17--Steve Gottlieb, Four Seasons. Tory's cabin sat on a little rise that gave her a view down the valley. Right in the center of her view was Parson's Creek tumbling and splashing down toward her. She took a few pictures when she first moved there nearly thirty years ago and kind of got into the habit. Day and night, sunset and moonrise, every season and weather she took a shot for the day. Now she had a hard drive full of not too bad photos and wondered what to do with them all.
I get to work today. It's The Clearing sign up week so I'll have to call to reserve my spot for the fall Women's Writing Retreat before it's all booked up today too. Guess I'd better put on something nicer than this ratty hoodie and my yoga pants. Underwear would be nice, socks too.