January Offers Little to Look Forward To

The colored lights are coming down. The extended family has scattered to distant homes. The parties are over, replaced by the drudgery of endless routine. It no longer seems proper to indulge in sugar cookies. No wonder this time of year heralds the arrival of my annual winter depression.

Traditionally, the depression starts on New Year's Day, the day upon which there is officially nothing left with which to look forward.

All we're left with after the holidays is darkness and cold. Oh, there may be a flicker of something to live for, like that exciting Sunday when friends gather round to enjoy the annual television event that enraptures and unifies the nation. I'm talking about, of course, the season premiere of Downton Abbey.

This year we also have the Winter Olympics to look forward to.

Ok, if you know anything about me, you know that my interest in the Olympics pretty much matches my interest in all other sports. That is to say, I'm not interested. Primarily, I'm annoyed that the games preempt my favorite TV shows.

I've tried various ways of averting that dark void which consumes me in January and February. Armed with an official diagnosis of SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder), I've tried sitting in front of a special light box which helps my brain create the same chemicals as the sun. For me, it also triggers migraines.

I've tried taking walks on my lunch hour - getting sunlight and exercise at the same time. That works pretty well until there's a storm and the sidewalks ice up, putting my actual bones at risk.

Well-intentioned friends always point out that the days are getting longer. Yeah, yeah, I know. But it's still cold. The grass is still brown if not covered with snow, and the deciduous trees are still leafless. I suppose the good thing about leaving the house on dark mornings and returning after the sun goes down is that you never have to see the brown grass.

Spring seems so far away. There are no holidays until Memorial Day, unless you're lucky enough to work someplace that recognizes Martin Luther King Jr. or President's Days. I am not in that lucky crowd.

The one thing that has worked consistently is to plan a winter vacation to a place that, by Colorado standards, doesn't have winter.

I've gone to San Diego, California, for a few days every winter since 2000.

It works best to plan the trip for February because the season's endlessness seems even worse than January. Plus, if I start planning right after Christmas, I'll have all of January and part of February to look forward to the palm trees and beach and 60 degree temperatures. By the time I come back, there are only a few more weeks of winter.

My annual vacations to California don't stop the winter blues, but they sure help. Meanwhile, I've decided it's ok to eat sugar cookies all winter long.

I Like Autumn - Now

It has finally rained. All summer long, we begged for a break from that record heat. Fires burned out of control as temperatures soared. The relief was palpable this week when, finally, mornings were chilly there was a little moisture in the air.

Autumn is truly a lovely time. I used to hate it.

I think it's because I really, intensely, hate winter. I hate having to wear a lot of clothes. I have having to put a coat on just to take out the trash. I hate the prospect of driving through ice and snow. I hate the endless darkness, long nights, and general absence of sun.

The fall used to remind me that an awful winter was sure to follow. But something's changed the past couple of years.

Winters are shorter than they used to be, or at least because of my advanced age, everything goes faster.

I've also developed some winter coping strategies such as going to Southern California during the worst of it. Joining a gym so I could exercise inside no matter what the temperature also helped - though I have to pile on the layers of clothing just to get there.

 Winters are also not as cold as they used to be.  Climate change has raised the average temperature. Not that I'm in favor of climate change, but can I help it if I like the occasional warm winter day?

A One-Finger Salute to February

I've had it. I don’t know how long I can stand it. I hate constantly being chilled to the bone even inside my home. I feel like an astronaut when I have to put on boots, coat, scarf, gloves, and hat just to take my trash out. Is it right that my fingers hurt every time I go outside? Why is it that the interior of my car doesn't warm up until I pull into the parking lot of my destination?

I usually keep a good perspective on the darkest time of year - at first. Early winter has it's enjoyable moments. The holidays sparkle with colored lights and festive merriment. It's fun to pull those sweaters out of storage. The afghan on the sofa beckons cozily. Fantasies of toasty soup and hot chocolate envision a season of cocooning in front of a fire, or in my case, the television.

But by February, the sparkle has turned to gray slush. This is the long stretch between holidays (Valentine’s Day doesn't count unless you're in a new relationship or work for Hallmark) when the drudgery of living without something to look forward to is compounded by endless darkness and cheerless dreariness.

This last round of below zero temperatures pushed me to the limit. I actually wore four shirts at the same time, in hopes of being a little warmer. I considered wearing mittens to bed except it brought to mind an eccentric uncle who wore gloves in the summer.

If Colorado’s Front Range isn't encased in snow and ice this time of year, it's dry and brown. The plains are dusty, dirty, and smoggy between snows. I am aware that the sun is up a little longer each day (everyone is reminding me), but the warmth of spring and the smell of green grass is still a distant dream. And our snowiest month, March, hasn't even started yet.

This past week as I shivered under a heavy blanket and two cats, I watched blizzard coverage on WGN, the TV station out of Chicago that everyone gets on cable. The Windy City was socked with their third worst snow in history, stranding motorists for hours and causing headaches for the outgoing Daley administration. Hey, I'm from Nebraska - I love seeing weather on TV.

I remember winters in the Midwest. One year in Lincoln, my front tire got caught in the same ice rut multiple times over a period of months. It didn’t melt. It might still be there. I remember not seeing the sun for weeks at a time. Denver is downright tropical by comparison. At least our snow melts between snowfalls and we do have the occasional 60 degree day.

Ah! 60 degrees! That's around the average temperature in San Diego this time of year. Sometimes it's a lot warmer. But there is no snow, at least down in the city. There is occasionally snow up in the nearby mountains, causing many who live at sea level to drive up a couple thousand feet to see it. Watching local weather in California, I’m amazed that, unencumbered by snow tires, people visit the chilly mountains wearing flip-flops and actually roll around in the freezing stuff I desperately try to escape.

Next week I will take my 12th annual vacation to San Diego. Leaving a poor winter-bound friend to sit my house and cats, I'll be staying at a nice hotel, Facebooking on a balcony looking over the bay at the downtown skyline. I'll have to motivate myself to drive over a big hill to get to the beach, but I'll be wearing shorts. There’s an In-N-Out Burger on the way. I'll drive with the windows down. I'll gaze at palm trees and think about how they don’t look real. I'll walk barefoot in salty wet sand.

When I return from 10 days of lovely California sunshine, April will be that much closer. And if it rains, I’ll still enjoy myself. Rain isn’t snow.