Last Tuesday, January 7, the Greek Orthodox Church celebrated the birth of Christ. I don’t have much in common doctrinally with the Greek Orthodox folks, but I have to say they’ve got the better idea on this point.
Here’s the deal: When the rest of us celebrate Christmas on December 25, we’re only four days past the winter solstice. “In the Bleak Midwinter” is a farce. For my money, once Christmas is over I’ve had enough of winter and am ready to move on. But we’ve still got the coldest, darkest, nastiest days of the season ahead of us. If we celebrated the big day in mid-January, as do our Greek friends, we’d at least have two weeks less of that misery to look forward to.
Yesterday was warm enough here to go for an afternoon walk. I needed the exercise and my SAD definitely needed the sunshine. But by no stretch of the imagination am I able to convince myself on January 11 that spring is right around the corner. We’ve got the remnants of the last snow/ice storm still hanging around, grey and slushy and treacherous in shady spots. We’ve got utter darkness by 5:30. On the bright side, I’ve got Middle Sister here to go on those masochistic walks with me and to join in on the new crocheting hobby. For one more week we’ve got The Boy here with us (and his girlfriend just left to go back to her university so we’ll actually get to see him this week). Until The Husband’s broken rib heals, we’ve got him a few hours a day, once his pain meds wear off, to keep us laughing.
Once again, my family makes the diference. Thank goodness.