A friend sent me this video this morning. If I could exercise like that while sleeping, two thirds of the contents of my closet would become available to me once again. Long ago somebody said to me, "Why do people always wake up dogs when they're dreaming? They always say, 'Oh look, he's having a bad dream!' and wake up the dog. Maybe the dog's enjoying the dream!" That conversation changed my view of dreaming dogs.
Screeny view from the bedroom
We had some snow overnight at the beginning of the weekend, and yesterday and today, sunny. Cold, to the tune of 27F right now (-17C sounds so much more dramatic to me), yet sunny enough that the snow is melting off the roof. I wish it would stay: it's a good insulator. I am pining for warmth and green.
I live in my dream place with Husband, one beloved rescued cat and one beloved rescued dog, and the warm memories of many other treasured pets.
I rarely sleep for more than four hours at a time and would happily nap/wake/nap/wake all day and night. I am undisciplined, a classic underachiever.
I believe that inevitable tragedy is a fork in the road, offering lessons in emotional and spiritual growth.
One of my coping skills is a quick and wicked wit and I often crack me up.
I avoid people who talk neverendingly about nothing. I cannot bear unrelieved humorless negativity.
I like people who are comfortable with silence.
I like listening to people who learn from Life.
I have received a few Blogger Awards, and while I find them momentarily gratifying, they're just too much like chain emails and I gratefully decline to receive any more of them.