crazy is as crazy does

At least twice a week, Ryan and I have the following exchange:

Me: Do you think I'm crazy?
Ryan: Yes.

This follows all kinds of conversations — like after I suggest we move to Puerto Rico to be mango pickers so we can enjoy the warm weather, work outdoors, be perpetually tanned, muscular, and relaxed. And I don't even like mangoes. You get the picture.

Most recently, this exchange was in response to Hibernation Celebration. What is Hibernation Celebration? It's my very own fabricated holiday, which falls on the third Saturday of January (the 16th this year).

Why? Because January depresses me. Because it's too cold to be outside. Because I miss my family and friends. Because I always want to cry after throwing a Christmas tree away.

Reasons abound. So, on Saturday, our house was filled with all the cheerful things I could think of. Yellow balloons and yellow flowers. White Christmas lights and streamers. Honeysuckle candles. A fire in the fireplace. Homemade roasted parmesan potatoes, pecan-encrusted tilapia with rum butter sauce, french onion soup, sweet potato pie, and chocolate covered strawberries.

And then, with very full bellies, we played backgammon and watched the Colts game. So, does that make me crazy? Guess it depends on who you ask...