Depression Podcast
It’s unusual to consider depression something to be laughed at, but maybe laughing at it has some merit. I have discovered a new podcast from American Public Media hosted by humorist John Moe called, “The Hilarious World of Depression.” Through conversations with some nationally respected comedians who share tales of their own experiences with depression, Moe explores a link between the illness and comedy.
The show is sponsored by HealthPartners and its “Make It Okay” campaign. I have long been a fan of the idea that talking about mental health issues is a crucial step toward reducing the stigma normally associated with them.
Depression can be treated. I treat mine everyday. In fact, talking about my experiences is one of the methods I employ to treat my natural tendency toward a depressive mindset.
I think it’s a great thing when humor can be added to the topic that is uncomfortable for most people to discuss. Spread the word about this podcast to people you know. It’s okay to talk about mental illness.
Now we can even laugh at it, too.
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Paralyzed
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it’s all news to me
unconsciously clenching my teeth
one headline after another
none of them offering good
I have to remind myself to breathe
instead of tensely holding my breath
how long is this going to last
this slow motion slide going sideways
a slippery slope of regression
back to a less developed state
when being rich, white, and male
was why america was great
with a king in imaginary robes
in a kingdom afraid to complain
having seen what happens if you do
bullying Tweet tantrums that ignite
legions of haters happy to take the bait
doing the dirty work unleashing their hate
as the majority stand paralyzed and wait
surely someone will investigate
good people will retaliate
the unfathomable can’t continue to contaminate
will good sense ever again dominate
most of us certainly hope
it won’t end up being too late
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Intriguing Finds
Imagine this: Delilah and I were on another walk around our property. How many times have we done that before? Regardless the frequency of our travel on the variety of paths available, there is always something new to discover. Yesterday in the quickly fading light of day, it was snow and marks in the snow that caught our attention.
Well, my attention, anyway.
In both cases, I had almost entirely passed by the beauties when something caused me to stop and fish the camera out of my pocket. Despite the bitterly cold temperature and the low light, I came up with images that work for me.
The first subject was a couple of balanced mossy rocks that the snow had frosted with a flair. It flowed down from the top of the upper rock and circled perfectly around it as it settled over the rock below.
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The second find was even more fascinating to me. At first glance I assumed the marks in the snow were probably from George and Anneliese’s dogs, but one mark didn’t make any sense. My brain processed it as if a bear had swung a clawed paw.
Probably not.
Then it occurred to me. That was the shadow of a passing wing! These were the tracks from a predator snatching up prey. Wow.
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I had to halt Delilah’s progress so I could get out the camera again and position myself to capture the shot. I couldn’t reach because she was pulling against me toward something more interesting to her.
I called her to come back toward me and then quickly pleaded with her to stop and stay, in fear she would come barreling all the way back to me and stomp through the scene. Luckily, she stopped.
Just another walk around the property. Yeah.
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Didn’t Work
As Delilah and I were walking through the woods on Sunday morning after the overnight accumulation of perfectly powdery snow, we came upon a loose strand of spider web blowing in the breeze, still covered with a collection of flakes. I suppose it might have been the weight of the snow that pulled the line from the web in the first place.
I hastily tried to capture a shot of it with my camera, but before I could successfully set the macro and frame the snowy strand, it broke away and fell to the ground.
It became another image for the batch of those that didn’t work.
Last night as I took Delilah out for her final evening stroll, I was surrounded by incredible beauty, all of which would land in my batch of “didn’t work” images if I tried to capture the scenes with my pocket camera.
The December super moon was illuminating the freshly fallen snow and giving off a priceless glow. How amazing the difference between this experience and the darkest moonless nights of summer around here. There was no need for a flashlight last night.
The sky wasn’t entirely clear, and some high wisps of cloud occasionally reflected a circle of light around the giant ball of cheese. It was simply spectacular. The kind of thing you want to immediately share with the world. You’ll have to take my word for it. I didn’t get any pictures.
It was a “you had to be there” performance.
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Winter Indeed
I thought it was going to stop snowing early in the day, based on the way the radar looked in the morning, but the flakes just kept falling the whole time I was out shoveling and plowing yesterday. That really messes with my perfectionism for having a clean driveway and walkways.
It is fascinating to me how dramatically life changes between summer and winter. In summer, I get to walk out the door without a thought. Now I pause at the front door for 5 minutes and put on several additional layers of clothes, boots, hat & mittens. It’s the way of winter.
It has been a long time since I plowed snow with the Grizzly, but in minutes I was back in the routine. Down with the blade, forward gear. Up with the blade, reverse. Back and forth, to and fro. Snow flowing off the blade, off the driveway, and into the ditch.
Summer is a distant memory. I am now fully in winter mode and it feels totally normal to be so. The repetitive motion of shoveling and plowing becomes something of a meditation for me. Meditation with grunting and sweating, that is.
I suppose it’s not much different from mowing the grass in summer.
They just seem worlds apart to me.
I noticed yesterday how my mindset changes dramatically with the seasons, in terms of what is most important. In the spring and summer I work diligently to rake out the gravel from the grass beside the driveway. As I plowed the snow off the gravel driveway yesterday, I had no problem shifting the priority to removing the snow without worrying about pushing gravel up onto the grass.
What matters in this moment isn’t always the same as what matters in another.
Today, snow and cold are the prominent attention grabbers. Winter, indeed.
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Morning Pictures
Delilah and I set out in the pre-dawn light to walk the long way through the woods to the barn so we could feed the horses. The coloring comes through with a blue tint before the sunlight starts making its way through the clouds.
I always find the view of fresh snow on the branches irresistible to capture, but the pictures never do justice to what I get to see in real life.
Legacy likes to pretend he doesn’t know how to get around the obstacle of the arena fence line to come in for the morning morsels of feed. The two younger chestnuts ignore his act and simply keep grazing until its time to go.
This morning provided good evidence of the horses having a preference for one hay over another from the selections we have to offer them this year. I specifically mixed the supply in this box last night.
Not wanting them to suffer over their picky-ness about the fuel being served this morning in the snowy cold, I emptied the box of the less desirable hay and replaced it with one of the bales they prefer.
I dumped the unwanted hay out in the raised circle.
Now guess which one they prefer.
After getting back up to the house to feed the rest of the crew, I will be stepping back outside to crank up the Grizzly for the first snowplowing of the year.
With a Polar Vortex cold snap predicted for the days ahead, it is finally feeling a lot like winter around Wintervale today.
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Working Well
In case you’ve been wondering lately how the old slow feeder boxes I built are holding up, I’m proud to report they are working out really well. Precisely as I had envisioned, in fact. On this cold December morning, as Delilah and I made the trek up the driveway from the mailbox, the four horses were visible under the overhang grazing peacefully, 2 per box, in the brief splash of early sunlight shining over the horizon to the east.
I expect those few minutes of sun and blue sky are all we will see today, as clouds are now prevailing and we are due to receive up to 8 inches of snow by the end of tomorrow.
Prepare the shovels.
With this morning’s temperature hovering in the single digits, the herd was very interested in fueling their internal furnaces with non-stop input of hay.
When I arrive with a new bale in the wheelbarrow, which I need to repeatedly remind them is off-limits for grazing from, they hover close for the instant of opportunity to chomp up a mouthful when the first portion lands in the box. I let them take bites while I methodically, but swiftly, arrange flakes in the box. I want to get the grate in place before they take to pulling more than bite-fulls at a time and dropping them on the ground.
It pleases me greatly that they never show any hint of displeasure over the addition of the grate. I can start sliding it in place while they are mid-bite and like a precisely choreographed performance, settle it in place as they seamlessly continue pulling up bites, now through the openings. The grates don’t appear to bother them at all.
Being famously picky about the quality of their hay, horses will ignore what they don’t want until it becomes the only option. Then they will usually eat that anyway. We have bales from several sources and we don’t always get the same hay in each box. When they like it, I will find nothing but dust left with the grate settled on the bottom of the box.
Frequently, there will be a half-eaten bale with a whole bunch of unsavory cast off grass nested on top of the grate. They pull it out and nose it aside while continuing to graze their way down to more desirable tidbits. They seem to have a brilliant ability to discern. However, when I collect the neglected leftover hay and drop it off somewhere else in the paddock, often times they will follow me over to eat it.
Maybe the new and different ambiance makes it taste better to them. Regardless, the slow feeder boxes are working out just like I hoped they would, and that makes me continually happy.
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Repost: Lucky Guy
With my thanks to Rich Gordon, whose inquiry inspired me on Tuesday to revisit my memories of the Himalayan trek I did with Gary Larson back in 2009, today I am republishing something I wrote at the end of all the posts about that trip. From the Relative Something archives (with some updating edits), I bring you May 16, 2009’s “Lucky Guy.”
I’m feeling really grateful lately for a lot of things. Mostly, people who have enriched my life. I’m a lucky guy. Lucky to know so many special people with whom I have been able to connect, and who join me in discovering the subtleties and nuances of ourselves and our world. I was born into a family, siblings and parents, who certainly made me the person I am today, and they have all always been a step beyond ordinary. As time passes, I am learning more about what that has meant for me and how it contributes to the person I have become.
I am lucky to have Cyndie and my two amazing children. Those of you who know me understand how lucky I am to have Cyndie in my life. And I’ve said many times that my children have taught me more about myself than I wanted to know at the time, but that I now am eternally grateful to have learned; and who better to learn from? I have also been blessed by knowing and becoming a part of Cyndie’s family.
I am lucky to have a friend in Gary Larson, a connection that was somehow made before either of us were aware of it, so at the time we met, we were both sure we already knew each other. Lucky to have discovered Pam on the trek. The whole group I traveled with have me feeling like I’ve won a lottery. Then, looking at the big picture, I’ve won that lottery of wonderful groups over and over. My soccer friends, cycling friends, Brainstorms’ virtual friends, lifelong EP friends, coworkers who became friends. What luck! I sometimes feel I don’t deserve to know people like Eapon and Chris and Andy. Rich, Steve, and Curt, Julie, Rhonda and David, Suzanne, Ann. Thank you, Laura, for allowing me to be a friend. Howard and Judy, Grace, RJ, and Ian in Portugal and Walter in New Zealand. David, Paul, Steve, David, Kevin, Todd, and Eric. Hal. Jodi and Jody. Kym. My other Gary. Murph, JC.
Some of you, I don’t see so much any more, but you’ve made a lasting impression that keeps you in my thoughts. You continue to contribute to who I am and to my feeling of being a lucky guy for knowing you.
Some folks say you make your own luck. If I have, I would be happy to take credit, but my thinking is, “How lucky is that?” As in, I am so lucky, I even lucked out and made some of my own, without even realizing it!
You are all good people. The named and the still to be named. Did I mention Warren? Or Ed! There are two Eds. And John. There are quite a few Johns. Katie. Judy, Linda, Elliott, Mary and David. Elysa and Julian. In this moment, I am thinking of you all.
I am a lucky guy.
2016 Dec addendum: The luck doesn’t end. Since the time that post was written, I would add, David, Ward, the entire Rowcliffe family, Pattie, Tom & Sue, Bob, the Morales family of Dunia, Marco, Marco, & Jose. George and Anneliese. Doobie. I’d add Katie’s name a second time, because I feel doubly lucky for the ensuing years, as well as all the staff at the day-job.
Good people, indeed —the named and the still to be named— as this is far from being complete in naming people who have enriched my life.
Just like the moment that post was originally written… today I am lucky to be able to think of you all, once again.
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Guess What
It’s back! After a gap of almost 2-and-a-half years —and with thanks to our house-mate, Anneliese, for her photo contribution— everyone’s favorite “Relative Something” image guessing game has been resurrected. It’s simple to play. All you need to do is guess what is depicted in the image below. Do you trust your first impression, or ponder the possibilities? Can you hold off long enough to wait for the answer to come to you, or will you look for the solution right away? You are in charge, but it is strongly recommended you come up with some kind of guess before clicking on the image to find out what this could possibly be. Guess your best, and enjoy!
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