Here we are folks and winter is behind us. Finally. The temperature is still in the thirties, but at least we do not have two feet of snow on the ground. Yeah. And every now and again we can see the sun. I love you sun!
Winter is never a good season for me. It starts in November when absolutely everything is gray. Within the first week of grayness my good mood plummets down through my toes.
This season was particularly bad. I can't recall so many darkened days for so long. I do remember the cold and snow though. Walking home from grade school with my friend, Harvey Kessler, in the bitter cold was always difficult. No one cleaned their sidewalks so we had deep snow to trudge through. When you are ten and twelve those walks are looooooong. Fingers and toes were numb from the cold. We didn't have nice fur lined boots the way the kids do now. We had rubber galoshes with two pairs of socks that our mothers bought three sizes too big so they would last at least two or three years. Simple woolen mittens that were useless, especially if you threw snowballs at your friends, were all that we had.
I remember the first time anyone wore ski mittens to school. Were we impressed! Then one of us was brave enough to admit that she didn't know what skiing was.
No wonder us kids from Windsor were depressed in winter!
Doctors have a spanking new name for this winter depression; they call it seasonal affective disorder.
Here's my question. If it's a disorder then why do most of the people I know have it? Can 99.9% of the population actually have the same disorder? No one seems to know the answers.
All I know is that my energy level is slowly rising. I actually smile once in a while again instead of snarling at everyone. Not a 100%, that's for sure, but at least I can actually write again. Spring is coming!
I just wish it would get here a lot faster.