I heard on the radio today that some mental health professional has determined that January 17 is the most depressing day of the year. It has something to do with the post-Christmas blahs, post-Christmas debt, not enough sunlight and the dawning realization that all those New Year's resolutions are going down the drain yet again.
Wasn't that a cheery news clip?
I don't think I'm in danger of depression, but Kim and I have been feeling a little whomped with weather. Last week's big dump of snow morphed this weekend into mud, mud and more mud, and we were reminded that it was under similar conditions that we named this place Mucky Boots Farm. And we've been plugging along painting railings and installing baseboards, both of which are fiddly and neither of which is giving us much satisfaction.
So I was in need of a little cheering up, some kind of reminder that spring is on its way. Lucky for me the sun came out today, I could see the mud puddles starting to dry, and best of all: green shoots in the garden.
There's no better prescription for January blahs than the first evidence of snowdrops poking through the mulch.
Of course Frankie's version of a green prescription is his green B-A-L-L. No sign of blahs there.