I'm not a huge interpreter of dreams, but last night's was a doozy. My home was about to fall into a sinkhole. ( What ?!?! )

So I had to climb onto the roof, leaving behind all I had worked so hard to create. Carefully chosen wallpaper, brownies baking in the oven - all abandoned; I climbed up, nearer to the sky (with a friend, identity unknown) as the house drifted into the water (I guess I had scored a waterfront property in this dream, wahoo) - destination entirely unknown. No map. Just safety from disaster, and no choice but to trust that we would land somewhere. Somehow. And eventually we did land - on an island where my family was among others waiting to share this new experience.

Word of the month for March:

Art.

Why?

Because I'm not an artist - at least, not a visual one.

Why do it, then?

Screw New Year’s Resolutions. Especially this year, unless the resolution is to just, well, stay alive. (Stupid Covid.) I can’t remember the last time I made a resolution, anyway, since my higher self knows they only make it until mid-January at best. Then it’s another whole 11½ months of Oreos buttered popcorn, and guilt until we “resolve” again.

Dearest grandbaby Eviana -

New Year's Eve Day has forever gained a new meaning, leaving things like resolutions in the dust of a much more important focus: your birthday.

This year, you will be one whole year old on December 31, and you've already changed the world. Well - ours, at least. Your joy, your love, your needs, your snarky sense of fun and play...what an amazing person you already are!

Bah! Humbug! to New Year's Resolutions.

I mean, seriously, have they ever really worked for you? If so, then you are a stellar human being and - seriously - I applaud you.

So this is for the rest of us.

I am not a Pollyanna.

Well, maybe a little bit.

But, two days after the Election, I'm tired of feeling my stomach in knots over something I can no longer control. I'm tired of anger. And I'm sick of literally losing sleep over the reality of Donald Trump as President.

For the past couple of years, I have begun the fall season by quitting Facebook - cold turkey – for ten days. This year, I liked the results so much that I haven’t gone back yet, except to check notifications for only a minute or so. I swear. So far, I have hardly clicked “like”, and (gasp!) haven’t even read my birthday messages that came in during the dry spell.

Advertising is everywhere. Every day we're bombarded by images and words that suggest - gently or insistently - that our lives suck. Or we suck. Or at least, that things could be a lot better, and why the heck are we sitting around just enjoying the day?

Let me guess what you're thinking (because I would be too):

What?!?! Another website about happiness? Seriously? What for?