Yes, it's still February in Ottawa. The waning winter is a more bitter pill to swallow than any of the previous winter months. In fact, it's the last week of February that always torments. Cross country skiing is an activity I enjoy and it does give me a better take on winter, making it more tolerable and even somewhat desirable.
Unfortunately I find the February blahs kick in like clockwork every year. Vitamin D drops don't keep it at bay. Being sick for weeks on end in February (like this year and others) only clouds it's onset until I'm in the full throes of Februaritis. I surmise many others suffer from it, and some have the wherewithal to flee to softer climates for a winter mind-wipe. Those who seek that treatment - perhaps they are given a sun warmed glow to carry around for those few remaining weeks of full calendar winter? Or is it just a simple break in the winter monotony that can mean so much? One year I'd like to try it out and see how effective the treatment is - for science, of course.
The sun may be shining but the -14C temperature (8F in dog years) makes the sunshine beaming into the house a misleading advertisement for the weather. Talk about a bait-and-switch. I know winter is winding down with the sun getting higher in the sky and sundown being pushed ever later - not too much longer now before winter is officially over - but after almost three full months of snow, ice, -10C and lower temperatures... Stick a snow shovel into me, 'cause I am done.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
An Ode to Nyquil
O Nyquil, thou sweet and noxious sting
bestows slumber unmatched by Morphius,
Thou three sided chalice glows like a beacon
summoning the weary shades who lurk the house
with diaphanous wads that lay strewn in their wake
"i'm sick!" a wail and a warning to those left
unvanquished by those denizens of hades Colde and Flooh
O Nyquil, thy kiss will make me to swoon and
ceasing all my sniffling, sneezing and coughing,
The cares of this sick world become wrap'd, muzzy headed
and forgotten in the soft downy world of my bed
Repair my shadowed and ill self to face a new day
wherein Dayquil, O Dayquil! may be my saviour and
I become whole and unshadowed, nay unsullied, by Colde and Flooh.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
