As usual, I am glad for the holidays to be over. The long stretch between mid-November, with its pilgrims and turkeys, through Solstice/Christmas, into the New Year, with its parties, designated drivers and resolutions. This season, the holidays were on Wednesdays and that disrupted the week and weekend separateness.
I have learned to stay away from family, especially at Christmas. It’s as though I have subconscious memories of some war that haunts me. I tried to recall some happy memories, talking to Sweetie a couple of weeks ago; some present received, anything, that happened at past Christmases. After about two minutes, the few things I was able to recall were replaced with feelings of anxiety and disappointment, and I cried for just a moment. No happy holidays live in my head.
So. Therapy has been good for me, helping me accept and move on and do things that are good for me. I’m sure my brothers don’t understand, and I know I would be welcomed if I visited them November or December. What I want is for mid-January to arrive, to get back to my routine.
On a happier note, the temperature is -10ºF this morning, and the high is forecast to be a chipper zero. We received 6” of snow, and the winds have made drifts a foot high against fences. This little piece of polar weather scoots out of here tomorrow, and I will hope to see signs of Boo Boo and Brownie and know they survived. Like most outdoor animals, I imagine that they have found a safe place to hunker down to wait it out. I see the two of them together, or separately, almost every day. Almost every day that I walk the dogs, I mean. Their range is the back or side yard of five houses, and while Brownie’s brown coat is a quiet whisper, Boo Boo’s whiteness is like a shout. They are not at all like tame rabbits, but neither are they wild - all look and no touch out there. I keep rabbit pellets on the back porch for them, mixed with oats and sunflower seeds, and they come to nibble and both will let me greet and rub their heads, but that’s where it ends.