Don’t you just hate the days that are drizzly and ICK? I do. I find it hard to get out of bed and take the kids to school. I find it difficult to work. I am antsy. I keep looking for ways to make the day brighter. I turn on all the lights and open all the shades. I switch my Pandora to the brightest, happiest songs that I can hear. Sometimes I light scented candles. I go out and feed the cats, chickens, and guineas – hoping to see some sunlight while out there. All I get is grey, drizzle and ICK. I hurry back inside.
I mean who wants to work under leaden skies. I don’t. I don’t want to do the things that a freelance writer/stay-at-home mom/everybody’s slave must do to make things work (Didn’t you like the “everybody’s slave” bit?). I would like to curl up in my chair and read the newest John Grisham novel, except that mine has not arrived yet. I pre-ordered in August and it has been shipped but I don’t have it to curl up with, yet. I would like to ignore the clothes sitting in their hampers waiting to be washed and the clothes in the baskets waiting to be folded. I would love, love, love for the new episodes of Downton Abbey to be streamed to my computer today. I don’t want to wait until January.
And yet, most of us do go to work. We accomplish many tasks in one day. We teach school, give shots, run the city, feed others, clean buildings, tinker on cars, and provide groceries. We run our kids to the orthodontist and our mothers to the eye doctor. We pray for the sick and we hem the new basketball pants. Some sell us our insurance and others cut our hair. We are busy. Drizzle or Not.
Some are not as fortunate and find life difficult on the sunniest of days. The drizzle just compounds their misery. These we need to pray for. They cannot work themselves out of the ICK like most of us can.
I have found several things over the years that push me out of my Drizzly ICK a bit quicker than sipping hot chocolate before my radiant heater.
I make myself change the sheets on my bed. I hate the job but am always so glad to slip in between cool, clean sheets at night. Once the final pillow is placed, I feel better.
I clean the kitchen. I always feel better if the kitchen is clean. I see the clean counter top and I immediately want to cook something yummy.
I make a list of my blessings and remind myself that I have it good.
I scroll through the pictures on my phone camera. Seeing the kids and grandkids’ smiling faces and goofy antics always lifts me up.
I talk to my daughter on the phone if possible. We can always find things to talk about.
BUT, the best way I have found to cure Drizzly ICK is to drag out a heavy pan and fill it with water and pinto beans. Dig around in the fridge for some ham and onions. Chop them up and toss them into the pot. Add a hotish kind of pepper to float on top and your day is better already. Just smelling the aroma from the cooking beans makes me want to rush to the end of the day so I can make the cornbread.
Perhaps it is the aroma. Or the thoughts of golden cornbread slathered in butter. I don’t know, but
a day can’t be too bad if there is something bubbly and delicious waiting on the stove at the end.
Perhaps it is the expectation of something warm for supper or perhaps it is the extra exercise one gets form hopping up to make sure there is still enough water in the pot and the beans aren’t burning. BECAUSE, burnt beans are worse than a Drizzly ICK day.
No sir, one can’t go wrong with cornbread and beans at the end of a cold, Drizzly ICK day. Just the sniff… Acckkkk! Gotta go stir the beans.
Have a great day!