... it's the lack of daylight, the awareness that after a brief post "black friday/saturday/monday" breath-catching lull the hurri-scurry of christmas is soon to resume in all its frantic glory, and the realization that the bare ground and light-sweater temperatures have nothing to do with global warming, but are, indeed, simply new england once again playing its cruel tease upon us ... my seasonal-affective-disorder instincts were to close all the curtains and sit in the dark, but, having come to a clear understanding of that particular enemy, i forced myself to go for a little stroll ... my first encounter, wonderfully great medicine, was roger getting ready for a two-wheeled jaunt to visit his ma in southern maine ...
... near my snow-removal time parking spot i found these leaves holding on ...
... above them these berries, too, refused to surrender ...
... the mid-afternoon low-angled late-evening light played across the two penny bridge's decking ...
... for me, a little ritual for the advent of the doldrums ... i love cleaning windows, a perverse fascination instilled within me by a ma who never let go her caymanian roots ... i also love cleaning windows because it allows me to go on a paper towel using spree ... yes, that's something else i love, paper towels ... i celebrate them as one of the great achievements of human civilization ... not just for their utility, but that even i can afford to purchase them by the trunk-load sized package at sam's club ... windex and paper towels, yes, for sure further evidence g*d cares about me ... no need for a ladder, either, another joy being modern combination windows (which, oddly enough, i cannot find any information as to their inventor ... how sad) ... here, 3:36pm, the next-to-last set ...
... 4:31pm ... windows squeaky clean, trash basket overflowing with paper towels, me wrapped in a blanket snuggled in my window ledge cubby with thoughts of the yummy sweet potato, chunk of real butter, and pile of brown sugar i'm going to introduce to one another in the oven for my supper ... give it up, doldrums, i know all your insidious tricks, victory is mine ...
