Winter days make me tired and less likely to smile even at the end of a Friday.
It’s a battle to keep my smile when my body is stiffened to fight the cold. Inside where it’s warm, I’m aware that the heat is unnatural, I want to hibernate like the bears. I know when I venture out I’ll have to fight the weather to keep my body and my temperament warm.
The coats, the boots, the bundling up, the time — the time to get ready, the time to clean off the car, the time to get there — the discomfort of trying to be comfortable in the uncomfortable clothing . . . all of these are exactly what wear me during the winter weeks. By Friday I’m not feeling cordial. I’m looking for space, some natural warmth. Actually, I’m dreaming of a rock in the desert, of digging the caliche clay in my old Austin backyard in 100 degree weather with 90 percent humidity.
We’re coming up on Jan. 24th. This morning, someone told me that Jan. 24th is the day the most people in the northern hemisphere are down in the dumps.
I won’t go there. Nu-uh, no way, not me. Even if you can’t smell, dumps are stinky places to go.
I’m taking out my crayons this weekend. I’m not kidding about that. I’m going to get the biggest sheet of paper that I can find.
I’m coloring a new sky with a huge, hot yellow sun. It will probably look like the pictures I drew when I was five years old. That will work just fine. In fact, it might be better . . . Five year olds have magic that we forget about.
When the sky is gray, and the air is cold, my crayons will make the sky a bright beautiful blue with a screaming comic-book yellow sun!
That will make my weekend and my mood luminescently brighter.
Heck, I even might put my sunglasses on and sit beside it.
If I do that, I know everyone I meet will be in a much better mood.
