My beef with Shakespeare

This afternoon, returning from my morning occupations, I toured the roses in my yard that are blooming - one pink Heritage rose with two fragrant blooms and multiple fat buds, one red Eden rose with a huge, multi-petalled bloom which is too full to totally unfurl and fat buds, and a pink Eden with a beautiful flower and a waiting bud or two.  I also have a dark pink rose whose name I have forgotten which has an opening flower, and a bright scarlet Blaze rose with a blossom which although blown, refuses to fall off.  It would be wonderful if the blooms could last through the first day of December (at least!).  Shakespeare may have written:

At Christmas I no more desire a rose
Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled mirth;
But like of each thing that in season grows.

but he spoke strictly for himself.  I certainly do desire a rose at Christmas, or, as I might say, at Hannukah, in fact I desire multiple roses.  Seeing the roses in my yard bloom is a variety of religious experience for me, and the approach of winter's cold and dark semi-hibernation seems like an appropriate time for religious experience.  (Of course, any time is an appropriate time!)  

Apart from that, I do at least attempt to like of each thing that in season grows. So when the temperatures drop to bone-chilling levels, I try to revel in hot-chocolate by my wood-burning stove, and when it snows, I savor the crystalline sparkles in the sunlight.  Nonetheless, I have to point out that Shakespeare lived in England (is there no end to my vast literary knowledge?) where the winters are much milder and flowers other than roses linger.  If he had had to endure winters with snowfall up to the knees and bone-chilling temperatures, he might have been a little less poetically glib.

Things are looking up - Happy Thanksgiving!

I have regained my equilibrium.  Thanks to an unfortunate childhood and really crazy family, I react to certain admittedly not optimal things in an irrational way - inside.  I don't let it affect my behaviour, but inside I really suffer, knowing I am overreacting, but incapable at first of ameliorating the upset, panic, and sense of despair.  What can I say but "bummer"!

However, I am back on track (feeble excuse for a train picture here) and things are bli ayin hara wunderbar.

So much to be thankful for this Thanksgiving!

gray

More than two months since I posted, and I had been doing so phenomenally well.  So I just wanted to log on and add this nothing post so that I could get going again.  It's a downer post, because I feel quite gray, or grey, depending upon your orientation.  Or blue, if you want to be more colorful about it.  Or indigo, turquoise, periwinkle, ultramarine - you get the picture.

I know that my depression is anger right now, or at least resentment, so I have to do something about it myself.

But now I have to get going for - major shock and surprise - the usual.  Gee, what an unusual activity for me - it's only nearly seven days a week.
Signing off with venom . . .