Weather and Mood.....

I don't fully understand the connection between weather and people's moods. Or at least MY mood.

I mean, I get that there IS a connection. I'm just not completely aware of WHY.

These past few days have been the perfect weather here in our little corner of the world. Bright blue skies, often cloudless or with only wispy clouds, chilly temperatures in the mornings (but not enough to see one's breath), warming up to short-sleeve weather during the day.

Likewise, my spirits have been high. Buoyant even. (I just wanted to see if I could spell that word.) I haven't had a meltdown in ... oh, say several days ... and I've done things that are completely out of character for me.

For example: visiting my mother, cooking, and cleaning house.

Logic tells me that doing things like laundry, mopping, and cleaning the bathrooms could just as easily be done on a rainy, dreary, cold day. In fact, wouldn't a day when it's not decent enough to get outside and do anything else LEND itself to staying indoors and getting things done?

Oh, I do the staying indoors part. I'm just not likely to use the time being productive. I might curl up with a good book (iPad, whatever), work on my quilt, crochet, or play a video game.

But it's the perfect weather days that inspire me to get things done. Hubby is probably hoping it never turns cold and rainy again.

Is anyone else out there affected similarly by the weather? Or am I insane all by myself?

Just Another Manic Sunday....

I realize that's not the title of that song, but it fit today, and today is Sunday.

I woke up this morning (reluctantly) feeling like someone had beat me. Or like I had just bicycled two days in a row for a total of 106 miles and stayed up past my bedtime watching college football. I didn't want to do anything. I just wanted to drink coffee and read the paper and play the new game Katydid got me hooked on and be a vegetable all day.

In a rather strange turn of events, however, I decided to go visit my mother.

I know, right?

I called her before I could change my mind, because then I COULDN'T change my mind. I told her I would be there around lunchtime, after she went to church. Then I went to the grocery store so I wouldn't have to do THAT chore when I got home from Mom's.

I know, right?

I sort of dreaded the trip to Mom's, and not just because she lives an hour away. Usually as soon as I get there, she wants to go somewhere to eat, and that means driving another half hour in one direction or the other, sometimes back to the very town I just went through to GET to her house. (Meeting there for lunch would make way too much sense.)

I also dreaded the trip because going to Mom's usually puts me in a funk. It's hard to describe and harder to explain, but let me say right here in this public forum that I realize my attitude is at least part of it. Like 5%. Just kidding. Mom is a difficult person to know, but I won't use this space to talk about relationships or family dynamics or childhoods or anything like that.

I made the decision to go visit, and I made a conscious decision to go with a cheerful heart and just go along with whatever she wanted to do. To my surprise, Mom did NOT want to go out to eat. She had cooked some pinto beans and a small pork roast, and she made slaw and rice and biscuits to go with them.

We had a nice lunch, then we walked to the top of "the hill," the highest point on the property that she and my brother share.

I love that place.  It is so peaceful, so serene (is that redundant?), and so quiet. We petted the horses, then we went back down the hill to sit on Mom's new front porch in her new swing. We just sat and visited, which was much nicer than getting in the car with me driving all over a town I'm not completely familiar with.

The visit was so pleasant that when I came home, I was inspired. I brought home some leftover pinto beans for Hubby (one of his favorites), then I made beef chunks, cornbread, fried okra, and squash casserole to go with them. (He won't touch the squash casserole, or any kind of casserole, but I promised mother-in-law I would make one for her and me.) I hope Hubby doesn't expect to eat like that every night. I also did a load of laundry and thought about mopping the floor, but that's as far as I got with that. (There's always tomorrow, as Scarlett O'Hara would sort of say.)

This is just a (rather long-winded) way to say that rather than putting me in a funk like it usually does, visiting with my mother inspired me to be at least a little productive when I got home.

Just don't tell her that one underlying reason for today's visit was that the Falcons weren't playing today. And please don't judge me. Baby steps.

Strangely Productive Day.....

I knew after yesterday's butt-kicking ride that I wouldn't do any exercise today. And that was (and is) perfectly okay. I'm past the point of kicking myself if I skip even one day of exercise. I think I need the days off, too, and I don't obsess about how many days in a row I get some form of exercise.

I wasn't a total slug, though. I went to the grocery store (a chore I do NOT enjoy), caught up all the laundry (it only took two loads, but Hubby had an inordinately large number of socks in there, so I must have been slack last week), washed my bike and lubricated the chain and derailleurs, emptied the dishwasher and loaded it again.

And I allowed myself a couple of hours out at the pool, soaking up the sun (probably too much, but I was conscientious about putting on sunscreen) and listening to the baseball game. (Braves won - yay!)

A blog post by my friend Neena from last week has continued to bother me, mainly because I can relate so well to what she says in item #2. She's wrestling with her post-Ph.D. life, wondering in which direction she should go. One of the things she's considering is abandoning her blog. If she does I will miss her very much, but I totally understand how she feels.

It's sort of where I was going months and months ago when I wondered in this space why we blog. I blog because I love to write, but I think it's more than that. If it were the mere process of writing, a journal would accomplish the same thing. I think blogging requires a little more responsibility, because you must always consider your audience. I love the idea of an actual audience being out there reading my (sometimes) drivel, even if they are people I have never met and may never meet.

Neena's lament is that she gets few comments on her blog and her readership is down. Is that something happening all across the blogosphere, sort of like the woes of the economy spread to all facets of life all over the world? Because I've experienced the same thing. Sometimes it's disappointing to write something I think is incredibly witty/poignant/meaningful/deep/creative (okay, so I have a big ego or something) and then find that no one else has read it.

It could be like the case of one of my dear friends. She has a VERY busy life, and every now and then she used to say to me, "Oh, I've got to get caught up on your blog." She was apologetic. I think she felt like it was a book, and she couldn't just pick up on today's entry; she felt she had to go back and read it all, and who in the world has time for THAT? I don't EXPECT anyone to read my blog, and I'm deeply appreciative of anyone who takes the time to do so. I guess I'm just curious about why the change. 

I'm not whining, please believe me. Don't start wracking your brain and saying, "Oh...well...what can I comment to make her feel better?" That's not my purpose here.

I think my main purpose is to remind MYSELF that blogging is something I chose to do, to give myself an outlet and to make me produce SOME SORT of writing every day. Even if it's bad writing.

I will continue to blog until I don't want to do it anymore. I'm not going to let my decision be influenced by whether or not anyone else out there might be reading it. When it stops giving me pleasure, I will cease to do it.

Now if I could find some way to force myself to play the piano. And no, going back to playing the piano for church is NOT an option.