limbolandia

I'm trying to stay positive on this cold white long drear day. Swirling snow, momentary bursts of light that resemble sun, disappeared mountains, not a trace of color. Let me tell you dear reader, it's hard and I'm failing. I've done quite a bit of writing which is not what I should be doing with two deadlines looming. One in six days, the other in two weeks, with little progress on either one! Is this is why I fall into existential holes so often? and why so susceptible to changes in weather? Weather informs my life when I'm in this place of being and nothingness. Or maybe I'm down because my friend is leaving tomorrow for a romantic week on a Mexican island with her husband and said she's only taking a pair of sandals, a bathing suit, a chocolate dipped frozen banana (?) and some yarn and needles. Or is it because it's my east coast daughter's birthday today and I want to be with her and it's also my west coast friend's birthday and I want to be with her -- at her beach house this weekend!

from Turkey with love...
...there's hope...in the form of lurid vivid color in two balls of quality sock yarn (infused with aloe), found this morning in a sort of job lots store in town....

The pink, which I started on immediately (quickly abandoning the boring 50 Skeins of Gray sock project), is quite seven-year-old-girlie, but an antidote for the blahs. It's getting to be late afternoon now, there are still a lot of comments going back and forth among my fb friends over the last episode of Downton Abbey (we're all pissed! even getting mad at innocent Dan Stevens who simply wants to advance his career) and soon I'll pour a glass of Sauvigon Blanc and think about what to do for dinner (Chinese takeout out sounds like a plan). I'll be fine. Really. I will.

In our eaves and around our dormers
the wind cries and moans with increased
force, and the night comes on.
     Hayden Carruth (last stanza: "Snow Storm")