It's snowing as I write.  The chickadees are busy flitting about, helping themselves to sunflower seeds from the birdfeeder.  The world is quiet, blanketed in snow.  

The animals are fast asleep and I'm puttering.  It's nice.  I'm lowering my expectations of Christmas this year and hoping that helps with the depression.  Mostly I feel good.

My grandson is coming over later to stay the night which wrecks my sleep but fills my heart, an excellent trade off as far as I'm concerned.

I have a home, a man who loves me and hugs me often.  I have a job I mostly love.   I've given out my gifts at work and lots of hugs.   I have food in my cupboard and freezer, lots of Christmas cookies.  I am thankful.