It's That Time of Year Again.

I could use a few more days' sleep.
~Holling, Northern Exposure

hi·ber·nate - verb.

1. To pass the winter in a dormant or torpid state.

Went for a run this afternoon out to the cell phone tower and back. It was still light out at 6 pm when we finished with parent teacher conferences so Ani and I seized the sun, tromping out at a bit faster than a snail's pace. The sun, as you well know is rapidly leaving us up here. We don't really have daylight until 10 am anymore and it is pretty much dark again by 7 pm. The snow has once again blanketed our frozen tundra. Then tonight clouds were rolling in from what seemed like every direction, huge, heavy, billowing, gray clouds. Just before the sun ducked away for good a few proud, bright, pink rays shot out from behind them. It provided a beautiful gray and pink sun setting backdrop to our evening jaunt. Different than the usual dusk but equally enjoyable even with the freezing wind gnawing on my exposed face (shoulda grabbed my neck up before I left the house) go figure. Yes, the ending of this day was intentionally, deliberately albeit painfully different than the rest of my days lately. You see since my return from Anchorage I've been very, very, very tired...exhausted actually. Wandering around in a sleep like state that no amount of coffee seems to cure. I can't make it to the couch fast enough at the end of the day and my alarm clock mocks me entirely too early. It does, I believe, have to do with the disappearing light, flying snow, and dropping temps seasoned with a dash of marathon I wasn't trained for and voila' the recipe for a hibernation.

An example? A few days ago midway through my post-work nap and just before my pre-bedtime nap there was a knock upon my door. Mechanically not intentionally I answered it. There stood Dudly, the most adorable raspy-voiced first grader, all by himself and catching me still very much asleep, "Can I visit?" he smiled.
"Um, yeah but you have to be very quiet because I'm sleeping." I croak (not the most hospitable welcome but I plead 'incoherent'). It was freezing out so he stomped in kicking snow, peeled off his outer layer and pattered past me into the living room. "Can I color?" He wasted no time strategically selecting a quiet activity.
"Sure." I mumbled remembering Mike (Quyana Mike) had just sent a paint by number kit. "Or you can paint?" I yawned.
"Yeah, I wanna paint!" He smiled. I poured a dish of water, again reminded him to be very quiet, and snuggled back into the warm couch as he began is masterpiece on the kitchen floor. From best I can figure what was about 45 minutes to an hour later I woke up. Vaguely recalling Dudly coming to visit, and groggily thinking it was a dream, I moved just enough to confirm. Nope, not a dream but instead in full living color, sprawled out on the kitchen floor and snoring away in his own right was Dudly fast asleep in his half painted watercolor monet. Moral of the story? I'm not the only one going into hibernation mode up here.

"If you lie down, you will not be afraid; when you lie down,
your sleep will be sweet."
Proverbs 3:24