Most days, it's hard for me to get out of bed, not because I'm old and feeble but because I feel tremendous sadness in the morning. I'm usually able to shake it by the time I've slid Buckaroo's bowl of oatmeal across the table, but some days not.
I know what I need: exercise, poetry, a dose of love, vitamin D, maybe a smidge of therapy, and warm makes-ya-happy-to-be-alive sunshine. The latter is not forthcoming anytime soon, according to the weather report. What's a mama to do? Muddle through.