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I consider myself an introspective person. Quiet moments will typically find me in a place of deep soul-searching, looking to mind and emotions for answers and reason. Not that I have a lot of quiet moments, but when they arise, whether it's during my morning amble to work or in still moments after supper is cleared away and before the television is turned on, my thoughts typically lean towards this type of contemplation. Sometimes, I suppose a person can think too much. I've actually reminded myself on occasion to stop when my mental meanderings are taking me places I'd probably be better not going.  No good can come from dark or scary thoughts. But in the right place and right state of mind, I find that quiet moments of reflection are both healing and enlightening.  It's really all about getting to know oneself. Think of the places that encourage the ability to let one's thoughts turn inward, to search your soul for what's important, for an underst

Today on my Facebook page I posted a Throwback Thursday photo of a trip my husband and I took to St. Augustine, Florida, in 2005. It was a celebration of our 25th anniversary. And yes, as that hints,  we don't go south every winter, despite my complete aversion to the cold and the lack of sun.  My mind knows I would thrive in southern climes.  If proof was necessary, that holiday was as therapeutic as one could hope, a lovely combination of relaxation, socializing, water and sun, sun, sun.  I returned home rested and ready to take on what was left of the winter. However, for many of our years together my husband was an avid snowmobiler... and still is a workaholic. If there was a blanket of white on the ground, with groomed highways cutting through it, there was no way he was leaving it given the capriciousness nature of our winter. There was always the concern that even a week away could bring us back to find the trails ruined by an early thaw or rain. Had it not been fo

We were promised snow, and Old Man Winter delivered it in spades. After a good blow yesterday and last night we looked out this morning at a fresh new blanket of white laying over the patches of grass that had begun to peek through. It really would have been quite disheartening had it not been for the blazing sun and azure sky overhead. As I headed to work this morning, trudging through the knee-deep snow in my driveway, I lifted my face to the brilliant heat above and felt my spirits rise. Snow or not, there's no question that spring is on the way. Days are lengthening, St. Patrick's Day and Easter decor are popping up everywhere, and the sun is growing warmer. Unlike mid-winter, a nice, clear day now can go a long way in eliminating some of that snow at this point. The drip of icicles melting from eaves despite freezing temperatures to hold them there,  proves the burgeoning intensity of a March sun. That said, there's still a lot of the cold, ice and snow ahead

March has arrived, the time of Irish blessings, Easter and spring. It is too, an unpredictable month, with hints of the promised warmth bookended by mid-winter blizzards, biting cold and dreary damp fog.  March in this country can mean a snow shower one day, a drink on the deck the next. There is a well-known proverb which highlights this capriciousness we've come to expect with March. It offers an imaginative prophesy of what we might be able to expect at the beginning and at the end. The question heading into the month is will it start with gloom or with the calm before the storm. Will it come in gently and with all the meek manner of the lamb or roar and bluster with the might of a lion? Perhaps the 'in like a lamb, out like a lion' folklore began with a human need for balance in all things. Hence the suggestion that if we are greeted by a nasty hello to the month, then it is only fair it should be a smooth goodbye. I suspect, though, this saying is based more

Today I wished some friends a happy birthday.  Nothing too unusual about that, except this is the first time in four years it's been completely accurate for this group. It's a Leap Year, so  those born on this particular day actually get to celebrate the way the rest of us do on our birthday every year. Taken literally though, this is a group that  looks far older than the years they are marking. Those born on Feb. 29, spend the majority of their lives commemorating the occasion one day before or on March 1. I know in the big scheme of things this is fairly low on the list of life's problems. Besides usually having choices is nice.  But I honestly think in this case either alternative would be a bit strange.  Since a Leap Year baby wasn't here on Feb. 28, it doesn't seem ideal to celebrate that day. The flip side though is to celebrate your February birth the next month.  I know, having been born in September, I consider myself a September baby and wouldn