2012 — In limerick form

Happy New Year!  One year down and another one to come.  Just like clockwork.  Or the seasons.  Or the calendar.

I have reviewed mine and Matt’s year and I have written a limerick about it.  And presented it in a pictorial (click on the first picture to start the slide show).

There once was a couple from Statesville
Whose 2012 was a year full of thrills
From Dublin to torn rotator cuffs
And dog bites to camping in the rough
The goal for ’13 is no emergency room bills

Happy New Year to you and yours!

Let a little light shine on me

I have written in the past about having depression and this time of year is always hard for me.  This week my doctor told me to get a light box to help fight Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD).  Starting tomorrow, I must spend 30 minutes sitting, reading, getting ready for work, etc. in front of my light box, bathed in 10,000 lux of light (whatever the hell “lux” are).

I am hopeful that the normal winter blahs will not be as bad this year with the light box.  But as with most things like this, I always think about what they used to do “back in the day”.  You know, the day before there was a pill, a machine, an app, a super-dooper widget to help you with whatever the problem is.

I read somewhere once that if you could take a time machine back 200 or more years, one of the things that would be the most surprising and disorienting is just how dark the night is.  No light pollution–no street lights, no utility lights, car headlights, house lights, etc.  I have experienced a little of this when I have traveled out West, in some of the less populated areas.  Dark is dark.

What did people do when the sun went down and the nights lasted 12 hours or more?  Sleep from the exhaustion of the hard labor of the day?  Read by the dim light of the candle?  Pray for summer and longer days?

There are a lot of times that I wish that I had been born in a “less complicated time”, but then I really think about it and realize that God put me exactly in the time that I needed to be.


On another note, Matt took this picture of a sign in Ireland.  I think it is excellent advice at all times, on a farm or at work.

Always be on the lookout for the bull

We all need to count some sheep

Matt and I just returned from a vacation in Ireland.  It was wonderful!  Ireland is beautiful and the Irish are so friendly.  I left for the trip with preconceived ideas of green pastures, sheep, pubs, music, scenery–I got all this and more.  It was great.

Except that this trip convinced me that man (and woman) are not the superior creatures on Earth.  We are too pampered, too dependent on our creature comforts, too soft.

Ok, at least I am.

I am exhausted and I think Matt is, too.  We didn’t sleep well the entire time we were gone.  Either it was too hot, the bed was too hard, it was too quiet, the pillows were too flat….  The list went on and on.  We’ve been back home for a couple of nights now and I’m still trying to get my zzzz’s back in line.

Do you think this sheep

cares if he sleeps under any of these trees?

Do you think the sheep has a bad night if he can’t get next to “his” rock?  Does he have a hard time counting humans if the temperature varies by more than 5 degrees?

I doubt it, and as such, sheep (and cattle and horses and on and on) are better equipped than we are to deal with variations in their environment.  Ok, again, better than I am.  I love to see new things, visit new places, meet new people, but I NEED MY SPACE and my things around me to feel 100% myself.

Is that advanced?  It sounds a little restricted.  So, while I have always heard that sheep are too dumb to come in from the rain, right now, I’m too tired to open up my umbrella.  I’m not sure who’s winning (or losing).