The Will to Live

I always feel wild with excitement and optimism at the beginning of a new year.  I think gardening helps a lot with this, as one always has great hopes for what is to come.  Also, “what you think, say and do comes back to you” so why not send out hopeful vibes instead of worried ones?

As I’ve been recuperating from Fruitcake Season, the Will to Live is slowly returning.  The other day I was lying on the couch with a knitted blankie, all three dogs and both cats scattered about.  I was reading an autobiography and enjoying the wafting scent from the bouquet of oriental lilies on the piano.  I started to feel the old fight coming back.

Emboldened, I drove to Home Sense and purposely got one of their giant carts.  As luck would have it, they had an additional 25% off on clearance items, so I just shopped until I felt winded and dizzy.  The young girl at the till was as happy as I was with each item that I had bought.

This kind of luck buoys a person, so off I went to Winner’s.  Did I say I had 19 pairs of dress pants? Whatever.  I found the greatest pair of Point Zero stretch pants that will be perfect for casual wear.  I seem to have found a fashion gap in my closet, ie casual pants, so now have Purpose and Meaning in my life again.

As happy as one gets, however, the children are always nearby to ensure that euphoria doesn’t get the better of the parent.  Luke’s old pal, Dan, aka The Boarder, is here from Alberta for a visit.  He was asking Nicky about school and work, and Nicky told him happily that he felt pretty sure that he was going to need five years to complete his degree.  He cheerfully added that he was going to live at home.

It’s at times like these that I put my fingers in my ears and sing “la la la la” for as long as it takes until he stops talking.  Otherwise, I would lose my mind entirely.  This morning I saw a half-eaten package of mozzarella cheese that was left open in the fridge.  Mugs with unidentifiable sludge at the bottom of them are routinely retrieved from the bowels of the basement.  Dumping their contents induces involuntary gagging.

We went to Yama’s last night for a Greek dinner to celebrate New Year’s Eve.  Then tonight I promised The Boarder his favourite pot roast dinner, so the eating appears to be continuing.  Fortunately, we’re now down to the crummy toffee candies in the Quality Street box, as well, the Baileys is almost completely empty.  Soon, very soon, we should be able to return to a life that doesn’t involve two to three kilos of sugar per day.

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