Mad as a March hare...

Always wondered what that meant...I should google it.  brb


Got it. apparently hares breed in the month of March and act all godawful crazy...much like humans. It's origins are in the UK (surprise!) from way back when. And that's all you really need to know.  LOL


LOOK!  Today is really the first day of spring and I can prove it...

The forsythia are blooming in the backyard!!!!

  Not only that,

But the lilies are coming up too!!  I was out walking around the back yard after feeding the chooks, and saw daffodills, crocuses and violets as well. Before long there'll be grass to mow and gardens to plant. I can't wait!  Our high today was 82. It's hot tonight too.


  I spent the better part of my morning doing all kinds of spring cleaning....even got the laundry done.  I hung rugs out over the porch rail to air out, vacuumed, dusted and generally had a darn productive day. Then I was off to MissB's at 2:30 and got home around 8:30.  I made granola bars for the irishman's lunches today and left them in the pan to cut when I got home. Big mistake. The waxed paper was practically welded to them. Sigh...Finally got them all wrapped and in the fridge and then cleaned up dishes and whatnot before retiring to my computer chair. (After watching Harry's Law)


  Once again I'm staying up later than I'd planned. The weather has all the animals crazy and nobody wants to come inside...arrgghhh....think I've got the majority of them in here. Maybe I can get moving towards my bed here in a minute.

  Got a call tonight from the husband of a friend...she's in jail, clearing up the wreckage of her past. He sounded terrible and asked if I'd write a letter.  Of course I will. She's been sober almost 3 years, and this little thing right now is over 5 years old.  Makes me grateful to be sober and to have gotten through that "phase of my developement" a long time ago. Not saying I don't still have to make amends for things...just different things than I used to have to. And for quite a few years now, they haven't involved any jail time. Prayers and blessings for R-


  Okay...I'm on my way to meet up with the Sandman...Catch you on the upswing....


Namaste.

Wistful Wednesday

The caption to this cartoon is "Dancing on thin ice"....lol

I was blessed to be in a meeting today where there was the gamut of life in recovery. A picture of humility. A surly long timer. Several scared shitless newcomers. 2 supposedly sobers that smelled like booze. A biker. A soccer mom. A chronic relapser. An art professor. A used car salesman. An arrogant and unconvinced factory worker, sent here by EAP. An angry person. And me, who laughed too much and said too much and made a couple of people mad and a couple of people happy. All in all, a good use of my time. I always said, I'd rather give a resentment than get a resentment, any day! lol

I was especially blessed to be in a room with all of the examples of drunkeness and recovery, each teaching me some important and valuable stuff. I want to live a life where everyone I meet teaches me something. What TO do, what NOT to do...something. And I feel rooted in my own recovery. I feel an unending gratitude for the old timers in my first homegroup (that place where I learned that you have to crawl before you walk, that time takes time, that I will never be perfect, so I may as well get over THAT. Where I learned that there is nothing so bad in my sober life, that a drink will make better. Where I learned that relapse is NOT a necessary part of recovery).

I looked around that room at all those blessed folks who may never get what I have. The odds for us are not particularly good... I look at my own family...generations of people who drank until they died, because they never got the gift of sobriety. I think of my own child, my precious baby boy...of his struggles and his triumphs and the miracle that he is today at 9 years sober. I think of The Universe, conspiring to give us the lives we want, if we can only get open and willing to get out of the way.

And I think of kittens, and daffodils and the blooming quince trees at the end of my driveway. And the bright yellow forsythias, whose branches are dotted with the brilliant red of cardinals, swaying, swaying in the breeze.
And all is right with the world, for now. For me.


Namaste.