I took Amigo to see the family doctor yesterday afternoon. Amigo greeted him with “Long time, no see!” Doctor and I just smiled at each other; I’ve been in his office many, many times over the past six months. Many doctor visits: bad sign. Almost two months without needing a visit: good sign.

Good sign of what, you may ask? I’m beginning to think there’s hope for recovery from this long-lasting, never-ending, terrible, horrible, no good very bad case of depression. That would be a good sign. Even if I experience a relapse, I’ll know improvement is possible.

Good sign: I’ve been busy in the kitchen and in the garden. Productivity: good. Energy level: improving.

Good sign: I’m spending less time online and more time walking. Activity, even in small amounts, is good.

Not so good sign: I’m still on sleep medication.

Good sign: Doc thinks I can kick the habit, and gave me a few tips for handling possible side effects. Readers, if I have insomnia for a few nights, I promise I’ll update Compost Happens. I’ll share a few garden stories, a few Amigo stories, and even a few La Petite events.

Meanwhile, it’s late morning and I hear someone moving around the bedroom upstairs. I think it’s Amigo; the rabbit doesn’t usually open drawers and closets. This is a good sign something, isn’t it? A sign of brunch, maybe. I’ll go start the bacon.