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January 8, 2022: Winter Malaise

Mayonnaise and malaise rhyme, and I don’t like either. Mayonnaise on good bread is okay, but then anything on good bread is okay. There might also be a place in our lives for malaise. It slows us down and allows for time to do what we don’t often do – think.

The malaise, it is weather-related. Everyone who I interacted with today seemed tired – even the dogs in agility class seemed to be lacking their usual spark and enthusiasm. It was like they, like us, were just going through the motions. Pete and Shadow are a good team, and did well, but several times, as I watched them, I started falling asleep.

Alys on Siggi's Trail covered in branches

Yes, it’s the weather. Today it was overcast, cold, and somewhat windy. Not windy like previously, but there was a stiff breeze. Here, tonight, when I fed the animals, I could hear the wind roaring.

I used to pride myself on having my feet firmly on the ground. I was a realist; my area of writerly expertise was creative nonfiction. I only enjoyed reading magical realist fiction when it felt believable. I was not able to suspend disbelief.

A strange thing is happening. More and more, I am accepting of the fact that not everything can be explained. I am not, nor will I ever be a conspiracy theorist. But I am beginning to think that what I previously thought was implausible is plausible. For instance, I now think that animals converse with one another and with us. I for instance, would put money on it that Swampy is continuing to give us milk because she knows how much I care about her, and that I am very appreciative of her efforts. Pete is not so sure.

Fortunately, my validation is enough.

And Tinni is still with us because he knows how much I appreciate and care for him.

I haven’t yet gotten to the point where I believe that there is a God. But I continue to believe in the power of imagination. So God might very well be a dog, and as such, has no gender. This dog is a pug – a sniffling, snorting, wheezy creature who loves all, with the one caveat that while he/she knows all, he/she can’t do anything about it.

Drumroll please. As I mentioned yesterday, Pete and I went for a walk and discovered that the Jim Road trail is now blocked by a formerly venerable cottonwood tree. I actually knew which tree this was.

A few days back I wrote a letter to Mother Nature. I have come to believe that, yes, there is a Mother Nature, and that, yes, she is upset and distraught at the way we are treating this planet. And so, she responded to my angst about our trail system and the way it’s being treated by blasting it with high winds. Now, no one can do further harm.

I am pleased about this. I’ll be able to ride fairly soon, and as I ride, I’ll watch the dogs bound through the snowed in trails. No, I am thinking, not everything needs to be explained. Just hold the mayo.

Next: 9. 1/9/22: Another Letter to Mother Nature

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