Melancholia (What a word.)

 

By G. E. Shuman

 

I hate to admit it, but I’ve been in a somewhat melancholy mood the past few days, even though I have no good reason for this and actually HATE the sound of that word. It ranks right up there with opaque, obtuse, and mediocre on my list of disgusting sounding words. (Mediocre is the absolute worst.) I know, most people probably don’t have a list of words they don’t like, but I do, and you have just read it.

Anyway, I really have been feeling a bit ‘blah’ about life recently. I think that has to do with the past few rainy days here in central Vermont; those always drag me down a bit. Also, I watch the news entirely too much and, lately, that is enough to turn anyone into a sourpuss. I am pretty certain my melancholia also has to do with this ‘aging’ thing that seems to be happening to me lately. (My wife would say it’s been happening much more than just lately.) I am acutely aware that this summer will mark the end of my sixth decade on earth and that’s just peachy. My happy birthday may not seem all that genuinely happy to me this time around. I’m practicing sitting in a rocking chair and shouting “Get off the lawn!”

Also, probably partially because of that aforementioned ‘aging’ thing, the seasons are just blowing by like a March wind. March itself has already blown by and, at this writing, has taken most of April with it. On the day you read this it will have finished the job. I’ve always contended that part of the blur of the quickly passing seasons is the fact that they really just aren’t all that long. A whole year is only 365 days. (You knew that.) And a season is only a fourth of that… (and most of you knew that, too.) I do tend to ramble sometimes, and I’m sorry for the sarcasm, sort of.

Each morning, I have my coffee in a front room of our old house as I listen to the clocks tick off more seconds of my life while I groggily gaze out the window. How’s that for melancholy? On the other side of that pane is one of the big lilac bushes and, this time of year, every single morning that bush is greener than the day before. Every day the buds are a bit bigger and more have burst into leaves. This is a really awesome thing to me and helps my mood as I briefly watch the new life springing forth. Hey, maybe that’s why we call this season ‘spring.’ No, that would be too sensible. Sarcasm, again.

You know, it was only a month ago that I was outside and snow blowing about sixteen inches of newly fallen heavy white stuff. Yuck! Yesterday my granddaughter was playing outside and brought me in a bouquet of tiny yellow flowers. Thinking about that I can feel my mood improving already.

I’m finishing writing this column on the next new morning. Yes, the clocks are still ticking, their pendulums still swinging another day away. But the birds are singing, the sun is shining, and the beautiful buds on the lilac bush have burst out even more.

In case you missed the eclipse.

A Blatant Book Blurb (Say that three times, fast.)

 

By G. E. Shuman

 

Dear Readers,

Once a year or so I work up my courage to ask you all to consider purchasing one (or more) of my books. (More is better.) It’s been a while since I last did this, so I thought I’d do just a tad bit of self-promotion this week. This act is something I’m terrible at, but it’s unavoidable in any effort to keep the publishing ball rolling, and I do want it to keep it rolling.

So… here’s the blurb. Please head on over to the Amazon website and check out the novels and the childhood autobiography by that awesome author, George E. Shuman. You will be amazed at the metaphysical, mesmerizing writing in “The Smoke and Mirrors Effect” and captivated by the kind and mysterious Mr. Little as he gently changes hearts in the wonderful “A Corner Café.”  Be amazed at the time altered states of lives past, the struggles of a young couple caught in the terror of The Civil War, and even experience the magically preserved voice of Abraham Lincoln, himself, in the captivating “Cemetery Bridge.”  Then journey to a rural 1960s Central Maine town in the autobiographical “Up on Heath Street.”  “George’s World -It’s a Little Strange Here-” is also available and is a super collection of hundreds of these awesome columns, written over the years by the author for his very favorite Vermont newspaper, “The World”.

Okay, so, there’s the Blatant Book Blurb I promised you. Please know that without such joking around it’s painfully hard for me to talk about my work. Truthfully, I’d love to have you read my books because I think you’d really enjoy them and also because I’d really like to sell them.  :-)

Sincerely,

George E. Shuman

Please search my full name on Amazon, including the middle ‘E.,’ as, unbelievably, there is another author named George Shuman on there and I don’t want to take credit, (or blame) for his books.