Oh, yeah. Monsoon season is upon us. Monsoon season? In Massachusetts, you ask? Oh, yes indeed. The weather patterns, they are a’changin…and that’s the truth. Now you can pooh-pooh Al Gore & global warming warnings all you like, but the proof, as they say, is in the pudding - or in this particular case, in the freaking thunderstorms that we can’t seem to shake. It feels like Flawridder, for pity sake! Hot, humid, and thundershowers every afternoon. We should have some seriously lush shrubs and plants this year, you know? Our tomatoes and peppers are already getting big and full-bodied.

I just checked the ten-day weather forecasts, and it looks like more of the same all through the 4th of July weekend. Oh, joy! We’re going up to our digs in N.H. and meeting up with the usual suspects - staying through Tuesday, and then we’ll take our time getting back, and I’ll work Thursday and Friday. Looks like we’ll have to bring our foul weather gear for sure.

But back to my cutting-edge analysis of weather - and weather-related states of mind. Now upfront, I have to say that I know full well that my personal griping and kvetching (about the weather) is self-centered, selfish and petty, given the terrible flooding they’ve been having in the midwest - the terrible weather-related disasters all over the world, for that matter - and I apologize in advance for this. I am constantly horrified at people’s homes being blown away, washing away, being torn to shreds in high winds. I can’t even imagine the terribleness of losing everything you own in that manner - going from being a homeowner one minute to a victim the next, huddling in a group shelter with dozens of other now-homeless people like yourself. Of course, I have to say that I’m horrified daily by ALL the tragedies that seem to befall humanity - from disaster to crime to accidents, disease, illness - and if you’ll permit me ONE brief cry in the wilderness, so to speak, I wonder at the purpose of prayer in the greater scheme of things. All these people who suffer all these terrible things - I mean, women who die of breast cancer, perfectly healthy people who jog, work out, eat only those things that are good for them  and ultmately drop dead of heart attacks, children who are abducted, people who are murdered, soldiers - and innocent civilians - who die daily in Iraq as well as in in numerous other parts of the world. I mean, what IS it? They didn’t pray sufficiently - or well enough - or in the correct way, or others didn’t pray for them in the right way, or whatever OR God has “other plans for them”, and if that’s the case, what’s the point of praying, anyway?

See? I will not pursue that line of thought because it leads nowhere. Forgive my digression. So, back to my petty kvetching about the weather, and how all this rain and these perpetually cloudy skies depress that hell out of me. Season Affective Disorder - S.A.D. - has always seemed awfully self-indulgent to me, but the older I get, the more I abhor humidity and wetness all around me. I MUST say, it’s a good thing I quit smoking back when I did, because this is such NOT-optimum weather for anyone with any sort of respiratory problems, and I was definitely getting short of breath. Did I ever mention how I started smoking? It was back in the early 70’s - everybody I knew smoked, but I never had. Well, I’d tried it once, as a young teenager out “behind the barn” with a few friends, came close to choking to death, and never, ever had the urge to try it again. Then, in college, everybody was hanging about in dim, smoke-filled bars talking about the war, about civil rights, about Kierkegaard and Jung, SMOKING <one thing or another> and sipping cheap wine for the most part, although we were by no means above slurping down a “pint” as they say over in the U.K.  Anyway, I felt left out. I did. But I STILL didn’t start smoking. Nope - not me. I waited until I was 28 years old to start. On the spur of the moment, in fact, I walked into a convenience store and bought myself a pack of Benson & Hedges menthol 100’s - because I liked the classy package, and their cigarettes didn’t have those ugly brown filters; they were as white as “the driven snow” - LOL, probably cleaner in my warped little mind. ANYWAY, the first one was a little rough, but by the time I’d gotten through that pack, I was hooked. So, I started, loved it, and within a year, all my friends had quit smoking!!!! I mean, can you believe it? But, being the intrepid one that I am (and late bloomer, besides) I kept right on with it - even found a friend or two here and there who smoked as well, and we kind of encouraged each other. Then, after nearly 30 years, I found myself wheezing a bit going up stairs, feeling completely oppressed when it was humid out, feeling like I couldn’t keep up with our friends on hikes and such, and I decided that I’d had enough. Did the self-hypnosis bit, and was done with it. And, like I was saying, not a minute too soon, because here we are, developing tropical weather patterns in new England, of all places, and if I were still smoking, I’d be gasping for breath right about now.

About the self-hypnosis and smoking VS. self-hypnosis and eating: WAY harder when it comes to eating, BUT it seems to have some gradual impact over time. With the smoking, whenever I think about smoking a cigarette, I automatically think about gasping for breath, and have absolutely no desire whatsoever to smoke. Yay. Case closed. Obviously can’t do that with eating, but I’m finding that I actually am beginning to develop negative feelings about unhealthy foods - junk - and when I think about eating them, I feel real physical discomfort through my midsection. Not pain - just a feeling of blubberiness; a marshmallowy feeling. I’m not sure that describes it exactly, but it DOES cause me to NOT want to eat that particular bit of junk, and that’s a good thing, even if it isn’t quite as stong as the not-smoking vibe. Maybe it will get stronger over time.

Anyway, the weather - and depression, crankiness, etc., etc. First of all, I thought winter was never going to get over with, was soooooo delighted when it finally left for good, and now I’m flailing about in this humidity and rain every day, with no end in sight, and have to tell you that I’m hating it. I am horribly cranky. I know I am. Bless DH’s long-suffering heart; he’s just so good about it.

Speaking of which, Congress has passed that spending bill that will extend unemployment benefits for 13 weeks - which will bring us right up to the week when DH’s first retirement check is due. Whoopee!!!! Poor man was really moping about, and I know that was on his mind - those weeks, I mean, with only my income coming in. Well, President Bush, they say, will sign it into law next week, and then we can breathe a sigh of relief instead of counting every dime that comes in and goes out. We’ve been saving against the time when his benefits would run out, so we would’ve been okay, but not as okay as we would’ve liked, for sure. So this is helpful.

Well, nothing special planned for this weekend - we’ll undoubtedly do some walking, I’ll do the grocery shopping, and we may have a cook-out with the kids if it doesn’t rain. (Hah! Fat chance of that…)

Alright. Enough out of me for the time being. Enjoy your weekends, mes amis -

Hugs,

Z