THE COLOR OF HOPE IS PURPLE

Here I am in the doldrums again.  The winter doldrums.  It happens every year.

The word “doldrums” actually means a section of the south Pacific which can be without wind for extended periods of time.  Back in the days of sailing ships this meant sailors could be caught in this dead air space with no way to escape.  That’s what January and February always feel like to me.  I’m stuck and there’s no way to escape, nothing to power an exit, no hope for change.

The physical manifestations of my condition are things like long periods of time spent standing looking out the windows, wandering the house looking for satisfying work (just to be clear here, housework does not fall into this category), paging through seed catalogues dreaming of what will be if I can just hang in there, and trying to think of something to make for supper. 

There is nothing more taxing than menu planning in the middle of the doldrums.  If my instincts were followed at this time of year we would be much skinnier by the time the grass turned green.  It would be kind of like when the Christmas leftovers were done we just gave up eating until there were enough daylight hours to reactivate my meal-making give-a-darn. 

Exactly like that, actually.

But, I am allowed no such foolishness.  The other person in the house still wants to be fed, and the dog wants his share of the leftovers.  I am given no choice and somehow I keep us all alive with soups and casseroles and such.  Somehow I feel like I’m winning in some small way if the meal I’m offering can be served from a single dish.

I know it’s important for my sanity not to let my whole focus be on the tediousness of food prep or vacuuming up dog hair so I try to diversify my portfolio.  The most soothing distraction is constantly reminding myself that even though it always seems like winter will last forever, it never has, yet.  Not once in my lifetime has spring not shown up.  There is hope.

This week I was gifted with the personification of such hope, and it came in the colour purple.

Actually, the seeds (literally) of this revelation were planted (again, literally) back in December.  Part of my Christmas baking includes making lemon cheese for puff pastry tarts.  The lemons I used were full of seeds and I decided to plant them to see if I could grow a lemon tree of my own.  I reused potting soil from my summer planters and low, and behold, in less than a week I had a morning glory pop up – on the shortest day of the year!  The dead of winter!  With the least amount of sunlight possible!  I was thrilled with its courage and tenacity.  It got to stay!

And I have been richly rewarded.  One month after its first gift of green to me it has now presented me with purple.  It bloomed!  This tiny, little plant – all of a ten inch stem and seven leaves – gave me one deep deep purple blossom yesterday and will have another tomorrow with many more to come by the looks of it.  I think life may yet be worth living.  That’s not a normal thing for me to say in the middle of the doldrums.

I went to town yesterday and bought some fertilizer to make sure my little emotional support plant stays healthy and strong.  And, while I was at it I went and bought groceries.  I think I’ve come up with an idea for supper! 

It’s almost as if the wind has picked up and my sails are filling ...