I don’t know what it is about that word, but if I say it over and over it gets weirder and weirder to me. Is it because there is an “elf” in the middle of it? Is it the combo of twel followed by FTH . . that mucks it up?
Anyway, moving on . . it’s not like I don’t like the word, I do. It just always makes me stumble, somehow. Although it must be said, for anyone playing along at home, I am 12 for 12 on my goal of yoga every day in December.
Rip that cracker and let the confetti fly!
There is no shortage of opposites for me in this blue white month.
Sometimes I wish I could hand out permission slips to people I see struggling, or whisper in their ear, “it’s okay to feel sadness at the holidays.” Of course how creepy would THAT be?!
HA. Can you imagine? You are standing at the bus stop, minding your own damn business, staring at the snow on your boots and feeling a bit blue when some STRANGE woman with two mouth-breathing dogs leans in and whispers in your ear. Ugh. So creepy.
That’s probably why I haven’t acted on my impulse — but what else is a blog for except to talk about the crazy sh*t I will never do, hmm?
I don’t know if I have mentioned this but it hasn’t been all peaches and cream with Daisy and Oliver. They are still finding their way into this new living situation and processing a host of feelings and dog stuff I don’t understand. It’s improving in that excruciating rhythm of two steps forward one step back. I’m keeping focused on the fact that we are trending up. It might be a whole twelve months (there’s that number again!) before Oliver trusts that he is not just visiting and Daisy has got her groove back.
*fingers crossed* it doesn’t take a whole year, but I am a long-distance runner by nature so it is easier for me to put out a goal that feels attainable if we keep our eyes on the prize and keep moving toward it.
B to the R R R R!