Beaten, and somewhat bowed.
Sorry for not posting lately. It has been a very hard couple of months.
Of course there was losing Veronica, which affected both of us in ways we didn't expect and which still leaves a constant sadness in our hearts which flares up into surprising pain unexpectedly now and then.
Workloads have been heavier than usual for both of us. And both of our workplaces are undergoing change and upheaval in different ways, which is also stressful.
But there's no doubt that one of the things that is depressing not just me but many of our coworkers and neighbours is the weather. We have been snowed on, and snowed on, and snowed on. Snowstorm follows snowstorm follows snowstorm. Roofs are collapsing. Snowbanks are spilling into the streets and sidewalks are icy messes; even after being plowed they're near-impossible to navigate. Wheelchair, walker and crutch users are writing plaintive letters to the editor begging the city to fix this, as they're practically housebound. Streets are constantly slippery and every driving errand is a risk.
On Thursday we came home from work and raked a ridiculous amount of snow from the roofs of our front and back porches, to prepare them for the 30 cm more we got on Friday afternoon and overnight. Then we shoveled the snow we had raked off the roof out of the driveway. We had almost no place to put it. The snowbank in front of the house is at least 2 metres tall now. The back yard is full. And we're getting 10 more cms on Monday.
We're Canadians. Winter practically defines us. But nobody can remember a winter as bad, and it's relentless and destructive and causing nothing but stress and headaches and damage and money worries. It takes all your energy to get up, deal with the latest mess, navigate your way to work, come home and wait for the next mess. It's spirit-crushing.
The only thing that keeps you going is knowing that it will end. (And, in our lucky case, that we will escape it for a little while soon.) But in the meantime, it's just rough times for all of us. And not a lot of enthusiasm for our usual pursuits.
It will end.
ronnie
posted by ronnie at
7:50 p.m.
6 Comments:
Uff da! Hang on...Winter will go away, and there will be crocuses growing. Holding y'alls in the light....
It is the time of year when even those of us who know where we live and why we live there feel like we've had enough. And, yes, you're right -- this year more than ever.
It will pass, and spring will seem the sweeter. Especially for Vaska, who spent most of his 10 weeks in Florida indoors and likely has no memory of grass and warm sunshine. Cheer yourself up by imagining what a revelation it will be for him! (Of course I'll post pics!)
I doubt that there's anything that could be said from California that would be of much comfort. Just know that we're thinking of you, and that I can still remember what it feels like.
I've been revisiting this post, trying to word a comment about how loss and work stress and killer weather all combined just drain you mentally as well as physically, without using descriptive terms like &*#%$!
But i've failed. Just know that i relate to the feeling of loss, stress, and burnout from &*#%$! weather, all conflating in a perect storm. Hope you get a vacation soon.
Thank you, all of you. You're lovely for giving a damn, really. And you're all right.
ME: There will be crocuses, and daffodils, too. Don't know how the hell they do it. But they surprise me every year.
Mike: I simply cannot improve upon your first sentence. Sums it up so perfectly.
Sherwood: I still remember how much I enjoyed your photos of your students celebrating a... sort of... snowfall. Perspective.
Ruth: Thank you for the &*#%$!. Perfectly apt, I'm afraid. And yes, we do have a vacation planned relatively soon. It's how we're managing to get out of bed in the morning. And we do realize how privileged we are to look forward to that.
Bless you all,
ronnie
how do you book your cat in for a Hearing Test?
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home