Saturday morning in my house follows a fairly regular routine. I am up first (always) and while Doug and Emma slumber, I have the place to myself. I stay in my pajamas, read the Saturday Globe and have breakfast at my leisure. From time to time I look out the dining room window and watch the keen walkers and runners pass by (my guilt over this lessens with each passing year) and for most of the year, not much differs. However, once the weather starts to warm up sometime in May, I move my routine to the deck so I can listen to the birds and soak up the morning sun and admire my garden. My longing for the shift starts to escalate around this time every year. Although it is only February 28, there are already little signs of the change in my garden. Little pointed tips have begun to emerge (barely) but face the continuous slap of old man winter whenever they try.
As an avid gardener, I rejoice in what will soon come as it does without fail every spring. In fact, this year seems even more important to me as my need for some cheering up seems more urgent than ever before.
Since last September, the doom and gloom around us has really wreaked havoc on my spirit and nothing picks me up like my garden in the spring. To hold me over until then, I keep little glimpses of spring around inside the house. A pot of daffodils in the living room, a hyacinth in the bathroom (nature's air freshener) and a little mini iris on the kitchen window sill to entertain me while washing the dishes. Small indulgences like these are an elixir to me. I will find other ways to make cuts to the grocery budget to have these things around me.
This morning's paper was especially harsh with stories of the worsening economy. Earlier in the week a piece by Niall Ferguson (doomsayer extraordinaire) forecasting inevitable eruption of Civil Wars around the globe was further highlighted in a piece about said doomsayers and the history of previous doomsayers from 1929. Some of their predictions materialized, others did not. Reading all this day after day after day is enough to take the wind out of anyone's sails. I take it a step further and read a weekly forecast - The Merriman Analysis - a well-regarded business astrologer subscribed to by many corporate leaders on Wall Street and abroad. Had I heeded his advice back in October, I could have stopped our own personal losses before they got worse, but who do you believe? I actually do think there is something to the planet's alignment and the effect it has on our lives, but my husband just thinks it's kooky. When you get right down to it, the future is anyone's guess, so even though Pluto is in Capricorn from 2008-2023 (a planetary event that only occurs every 248 years) indicating massive changes in economic structures and boundaries, what good is this information if most of the world just poo-poos it?
So, I think I"ll just forget worrying about the stock market and stick to something I can depend on - the changing seasons and my Saturday morning routine and count my blessings while I still can, for this too shall pass (just not as quickly as some would like to think).
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Something to Count On
Saturday morning in my house follows a fairly regular routine. I am up first (always) and while Doug and Emma slumber, I have the place to myself. I stay in my pajamas, read the Saturday Globe and have breakfast at my leisure. From time to time I look out the dining room window and watch the keen walkers and runners pass by (my guilt over this lessens with each passing year) and for most of the year, not much differs. However, once the weather starts to warm up sometime in May, I move my routine to the deck so I can listen to the birds and soak up the morning sun and admire my garden. My longing for the shift starts to escalate around this time every year. Although it is only February 28, there are already little signs of the change in my garden. Little pointed tips have begun to emerge (barely) but face the continuous slap of old man winter whenever they try.
As an avid gardener, I rejoice in what will soon come as it does without fail every spring. In fact, this year seems even more important to me as my need for some cheering up seems more urgent than ever before.
Since last September, the doom and gloom around us has really wreaked havoc on my spirit and nothing picks me up like my garden in the spring. To hold me over until then, I keep little glimpses of spring around inside the house. A pot of daffodils in the living room, a hyacinth in the bathroom (nature's air freshener) and a little mini iris on the kitchen window sill to entertain me while washing the dishes. Small indulgences like these are an elixir to me. I will find other ways to make cuts to the grocery budget to have these things around me.
This morning's paper was especially harsh with stories of the worsening economy. Earlier in the week a piece by Niall Ferguson (doomsayer extraordinaire) forecasting inevitable eruption of Civil Wars around the globe was further highlighted in a piece about said doomsayers and the history of previous doomsayers from 1929. Some of their predictions materialized, others did not. Reading all this day after day after day is enough to take the wind out of anyone's sails. I take it a step further and read a weekly forecast - The Merriman Analysis - a well-regarded business astrologer subscribed to by many corporate leaders on Wall Street and abroad. Had I heeded his advice back in October, I could have stopped our own personal losses before they got worse, but who do you believe? I actually do think there is something to the planet's alignment and the effect it has on our lives, but my husband just thinks it's kooky. When you get right down to it, the future is anyone's guess, so even though Pluto is in Capricorn from 2008-2023 (a planetary event that only occurs every 248 years) indicating massive changes in economic structures and boundaries, what good is this information if most of the world just poo-poos it?
So, I think I"ll just forget worrying about the stock market and stick to something I can depend on - the changing seasons and my Saturday morning routine and count my blessings while I still can, for this too shall pass (just not as quickly as some would like to think).
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