Back on my bike! Almonds in bloom! Snow on the Sierras!
I’m so happy right now. Euphoric. Thrilled. I can’t figure out why, except that everything is right. I had a wonderful trip and my cousin is this amazing, funny, beautiful woman who wants to talk to me as much as I want to talk to her. Her family is wonderful and her baby liked me extra special. (Or perhaps he just liked football carry and dancing.) France is beautiful everywhere you look; we went to the beach and visited a menhir* and saw fields of hyacinths.
And now I’m home and everything’s right. I don’t know if it is worth being proud of, but my life is so complicated that simply pulling it off smoothly gives me a happy charge. My systems are working! It was easy to get on BART last night, because my BART ticket was right where it should be! I rode up to the train station with two minutes to spare and zero fear, because I had my ticket from before! I brought the right keys for Sacramento, so I could lock my bike! It worked this time, and that is enough for relief. This morning, I had time to shower**, pack breakfast, pick greens from my garden, stop for coffee, call Sherry, and pack, all with a nephew on my hip or underfoot. This means I am on a train with coffee and breakfast, watching the bay***, and writing to you and chair dancing to music in my earphones. Perfect!
Mostly, though, I think it is the daylight. So much beautiful light, from a sky that’s still a little thin, but getting bluer. Light to exhilarate my soul and give me the energy to do everything I think of. You can make fun of me for resenting a California winter, but it is dull and grey and you have to pull strength out of your self just to make it though your chores. Not spring and summer, though. In spring, the energy floods into you with the light. Waking is easy, with a mind full of happy plans for the garden and for picnic tables with chips and salsa and strings of colored lanterns and playing catch and swimming. Life is getting righter every day and not a minute too soon.
*I do like the idea of stacking rocks as a hobby. I like to think that if I were pagan and there were no internet to keep me out of trouble, I’d be out moving boulders around. I suppose there’s nothing to stop me, and yet I never do it. Maybe McKinley Park needs a menhir?
**The nephews like to watch people shower and the door doesn’t lock. It was a little odd at first, to look down and see the biggest sets of eyes ever, watching very intently. Well, hello. It is their great joy to bring you a towel when you finish. My sister says she finishes her shower, then says casually “I sure wish I had a towel”, at which they shout for joy and run to get her one. OK. Thanks, kid.
***Who are you freaks who think it is OK to sit backwards on the train? No no no no no. You sit portside, so you can see the bay for forty minutes, and you look forward, so you know if there’s going to be something to see, like a container ship.
And now I’m home and everything’s right. I don’t know if it is worth being proud of, but my life is so complicated that simply pulling it off smoothly gives me a happy charge. My systems are working! It was easy to get on BART last night, because my BART ticket was right where it should be! I rode up to the train station with two minutes to spare and zero fear, because I had my ticket from before! I brought the right keys for Sacramento, so I could lock my bike! It worked this time, and that is enough for relief. This morning, I had time to shower**, pack breakfast, pick greens from my garden, stop for coffee, call Sherry, and pack, all with a nephew on my hip or underfoot. This means I am on a train with coffee and breakfast, watching the bay***, and writing to you and chair dancing to music in my earphones. Perfect!
Mostly, though, I think it is the daylight. So much beautiful light, from a sky that’s still a little thin, but getting bluer. Light to exhilarate my soul and give me the energy to do everything I think of. You can make fun of me for resenting a California winter, but it is dull and grey and you have to pull strength out of your self just to make it though your chores. Not spring and summer, though. In spring, the energy floods into you with the light. Waking is easy, with a mind full of happy plans for the garden and for picnic tables with chips and salsa and strings of colored lanterns and playing catch and swimming. Life is getting righter every day and not a minute too soon.
*I do like the idea of stacking rocks as a hobby. I like to think that if I were pagan and there were no internet to keep me out of trouble, I’d be out moving boulders around. I suppose there’s nothing to stop me, and yet I never do it. Maybe McKinley Park needs a menhir?
**The nephews like to watch people shower and the door doesn’t lock. It was a little odd at first, to look down and see the biggest sets of eyes ever, watching very intently. Well, hello. It is their great joy to bring you a towel when you finish. My sister says she finishes her shower, then says casually “I sure wish I had a towel”, at which they shout for joy and run to get her one. OK. Thanks, kid.
***Who are you freaks who think it is OK to sit backwards on the train? No no no no no. You sit portside, so you can see the bay for forty minutes, and you look forward, so you know if there’s going to be something to see, like a container ship.
posted by Megan at 9:56 AM
6 Comments:
i miss you.
Come back to me, baby!
You should start piling rocks.
I used to go early to the American River. Near Watt Avenue, there was a guy who would show up, and make piles of rocks. More cairns than menhirs, but he would make ten or so, and then disappear. Many times I wouldn't see him, but there were none when I started, and several when I left.
A4
The nephews like to watch people shower and the door doesn’t lock. It was a little odd at first, to look down and see the biggest sets of eyes ever, watching very intently.
How old are they??
--
Who are you freaks who think it is OK to sit backwards on the train? No no no no no. You sit portside, so you can see the bay for forty minutes, and you look forward, so you know if there’s going to be something to see, like a container ship.
You'd like the train cars on New Jersey Transit, some of which have reversible seats so you can sit forward all the time if you want.
After more than a decade of riding the same route almost every day I've long since lost any concern over whether I'm riding forward or backward. It is a much greater concern whether an elephantine SCA will plop next to me and squash me into oblivion.
Oh, one more thing. Piling up rocks might be fun and Zen-ish so long as you're talking about little rocks. Not so when the rocks get bigger. Many moons ago I spent a couple of days helping a local workman build a stone wall at my aunt's house in a rural part of Connecticut. Most of the rocks were in the 25- to 50-pound range. Suffice to say that it was exhausting and backbreaking labor that left me sore for days and days afterwards.* New England's ubiquitous stone walls are picturesque, but each one represents the product of very, very hard work.
* = granted, that was back in my couch potato days, today the work wouldn't be nearly so difficult for me, but it still wouldn't be anyone's idea of fun
I got to build a dry stone wall one time, something I had wanted to do for years. It was great fun*. I particularly found it interesting that when looking at a rock, I was looking at the average size of the rock, but when you are trying to fit a rock snugly into a tight space, the little knobby bits** really matter. You need to look at the maximum in every direction, not the average. It was a hard habit to unlearn, but it was neat when I figured out why my stones would often not fit where I thought they should.
A4
*It was only about 20 feet of wall, and our stones may have been lighter.
**I couldn't knock the knobby bits off with a hammer. Don't know why.
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