Not much new to report. It's my mother's birthday next week. She will be 88! I have no idea what to get her. She certainly doesn't need any more clothes - she couldn't cram any more into her closet. I may take the day off and take her somewhere for lunch. Get her a nice bouquet of flowers, too, perhaps.
In other news, I've kicked the sleeping pill habit! No little blue pills (zopiclone, that is, not Viagra!) or Ativan for over two weeks now. I have been taking something called Sleep MD, which is an over the counter, all natural product. It seems to help. I have been sleeping so-so. Usually waking up around 3:00 a.m. and sometime going back to sleep, sometimes not.
Hmmmm... Perhaps time for a Robert Frost poem. Seems to fit:
Tree at my Window
Tree at my window, window tree,
My sash is lowered when night comes on;
But let there never be curtain drawn
Between you and me.
Vague dream-head lifted out of the ground,
And thing next most diffuse to cloud,
Not all your light tongues aloud
Could be profound.
But tree, I have seen you taken and tossed,
And if you have seen me when I slept,
You have seen me when I was taken and swept
And all but lost.
The day she put our heads together,
Fate had her imaginatiomn about her,
Your head so much concerned with outer,
Mine with inner, weather.
2 comments:
Perhaps your trouble sleeping is related to all the stress from Brad's mom's lengthy illness and passing? Glad to hear you're off the dolls!
Mark :-)
In a way, I wish that were the case, Mark, but - unfortunately - insomnia is something I have suffered with for years.
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