Fighting the winter blah.


Day after day of fog and frost

January is done and dusted. Living in Minnesota, we can have deadly below zero windchills combined with blizzards, black ice, and other exciting goodies.

2020 brought with it a bit of a change. Day after mind numbing day of fog and frost. Jack Frost went on one hell of a bender this year, and holy wow, I’m glad January is over.

So, to fight the winter blah, I’ve been playing with colors. Accent colors, to be honest. My daughter’s shawl is coming along nicely. It’s shades of blue and purple. I’ve switched from feather and fan knit, to crochet, and it will be done with just a few hours of work.

Clothing wise, thrift stores like goodwill and the Bible Mission are my go to. They pander to a wide variety of humanity, and I’m getting the blessing of many colors as a result. I’m able to wheel in, find shawls of many many colors, and leave with two bags stuffed full for less than I’d spend out for a meal with friends.

So, while the washing machine is running, washing my latest prizes, I’m sitting here writing to you.

In recovery, fighting the winter blah is a bit harder. This is where more than meetings comes into play. Via social media, and recovery websites, I’ve found many events I can take part in. In the month of February alone, I could attend a sledding party, a dance, a potluck and an area meeting if I so choose.

Okay, the area meeting, I’m supposed to actually attend.

I’ve dedicated my life to finding the emotional and spiritual color where and when I can. A good friend of mine from Northern Minnesota and I write letters back and forth to each other about once a week. We used to go to treatment centers together to speak. It was mischief and mayhem the trip there, the time there, and the trip home.

In meetings, I was the one who cackled instead of laughed. I chose to be ornery and mischeivous instead of boring and serious, and I loved to live life the best I could.

Today, as a writer, secretary, and once a week meeting goer, I live as best I can to fight the blah from the wheelchair. There are more meetings I can’t attend face to face, but that I can support from the keyboard. I still am ornery and cantankerous. I still find and make mischief the best I can.

In working the steps, that is the utmost of mischief and mayhem in my eyes. It’s saying F*** You to the disease of addiction. It is grand large malicious defiance to the slavery of alcohol and other drugs.

Just my opinion. Hugs, I better get back to work. The area has a request of me. Take care,

-L

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