The air in our neighbourhood has been full of falling white puffiness
\nall day. It has sucked the colour out of the background and my
\nenthusiasm for shoveling. I know that the frozen tire ruts and ice
\nchunks still lie under all that smooth, leprous Wonderland, and I
\nknow I will not enjoy the shocks my shovel will deliver to my wrists,
\nshoulders and spine when it runs into all those little surprises lurking.<\/p>\n
I know, I know: it’s a winter Wonderland and all that crap, White Christmas
\njingle bells and so on; but it just makes me want to wrap up in a shawl
\nand play old guy for a while. And please don’t try to cheer me up
\nby singing Christmas Carols, they make me want to be jolly, and I don’t.
\nI really sympathize with Scrooge: while his position derived from
\nmean-spiritedness, there is a lot of forced levity that seems to require
\ncopious amounts of booze to happen at all. Christmas is a favorite season
\nfor checking out; we seem to have set it up so that if you don’t have
\nthe requisite fluffy\/sparkly\/aromatic\/cozy family love in, you can get pretty
\ndepressed. The predominance of darkness really doesn’t help that either.<\/p>\n
So here I am, at the bottom of the space, having been pretty depressing,
\nand I’m looking for a way out into the sparkly sunshine that is bound to
\nfollow; it always does. And of course that is because fluffy snow is
\na very reflective substance. And I guess that’s what it has going for it.
\nFluff can be substantial, even if it is full of air, as is your humble, etc.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Bah humbug! Some thoughts on the season. (#1001) Continue reading