into every day a little sun must shine

I'm using this deliberately upbeat sentiment about sunshine because I've just been talking to a friend to whom not only is the glass half-empty, it's also cracked and the water is filthy.  He can be very depressing to talk to.  When it gets too bad, I think of the pep talk the friar gave to Romeo when things were looking bleak.

What, rouse thee, man! Thy Juliet is alive,

For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead—

There art thou happy. Tybalt would kill thee,

But thou slew’st Tybalt—there art thou happy.

The law that threatened death becomes thy friend

And turns it to exile—there art thou happy.

A pack of blessings light upon thy back,

Happiness courts thee in her best array,

         Honestly, I do think of those words: "there art thou happy."  And they help.

 I am so blessed, I have no reason to complain, certainly not of the cold nor of neglect.  Rather, I chafe at my own inertia - I've mentioned this before, so I won't dwell on it.  

There was a family joke, a line that occurred before I was born.  The people next door to my parents had a cute little dog that my brother, then about four years old (and articulate, you will notice, according to the joke), my brother often looked longingly at. The neighbour asked him if he'd like a dog of his own and my brother, according to the story, answered: "We could have a dog if we cared for a dog, but we don't care for a dog."    (There's a lot of psychology in that line.)  Anyway, I think of that, too, when I'm at loose ends, with the whole world at my fingertips, so to speak, but not readily available, not without some effort.  I think: I could do that or have that or whatever, if I cared to.  If I cared to make the effort, get off my butt, look around, count my blessings, all that, yes, I know. It's just that sometimes I wish someone would do it for me.