When I’m not feeling great, the first thing I do is blame. Blame someone. Blame something. So easy to do.

Today, the weather was – well, first beautiful: lovely white snow – and then, more snow. And more.

Snow can be fun for those who love sports, or lousy for those who need to clean it up. I was in the cleaning up mode this afternoon and feeling all sorry for myself. Blaming the white for my mood.

When I went to the dog park, there was a very nice woman there who clearly had not seen the less wonderful side of the snow. She went on and on about how beautiful it was. She loved it.

It made it hard for me to keep up my internal weather blame voice. But I thought it might pipe back up again. I did a few errands.

It was evening before I headed back inside my house.


After spending a lot of time outdoors in this kind of ongoing battle with the white, only white world (it seemed), I was HIT with the sweet blast of color.

Warm reds, oranges and yellows. Soothing blues. Bright pink. Luscious green. Bathing me.

I felt loved by the wash of color.

And I totally totally lost my blame. The way I was blaming the outdoors. For being so, well, so white.