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Archive for the tag “tree”

Do you have any spare change?

Sometimes I wonder if I will ever get accustomed to the idea that I get to live in a house on a lake.  Last night I sat on the back porch as the last of daylight faded and watched drizzly rain fall over the lake, considering the constant changes of nature.  Water seems a living thing, an entity with definite moods and temperaments; grey then blue then nearly clear; smooth, then rippled, then whitecapped; moving toward me and then away.

Most of the trees are bare right now and their limbs are beautiful art, twisted and gnarled like my farmer grandfather’s hands were, telling stories of thwarted growth abruptly turning the limb the other direction, knotted and bent.  Skinny crepe myrtles with peeling bark and thin straight limbs make me think of a gangly teenager growing tall quicker than they can keep up with.

Watching nature’s seasons I find myself wondering why I continue to expect that I shall not – or should not – have seasons in my life also.  Constant change is evident all around us and yet we think somehow we will be the same, do the same, accomplish the same today and tomorrow and next year.  And when that doesn’t happen, as it never does, we get upset.  We try to change the change.  The trees don’t try to change what is barring that limb from growing in that direction, the limb changes its direction.  And when I see that limb I think it’s beautiful.  The tall straight skinny limbs just look young and awkward to me.

This morning weather.com told me it was going to be about 47 degrees and there was a icon of a large bright yellow sun with little rays coming out of it next to the 47.  

Thus I assumed it was going to be about 47 degrees and the sky would sport a large bright yellow sun with little rays coming out of it.

Thus I also assumed that a singlet with a L/S lightweight tech shirt and shorts would be fine to wear.  I also assumed I didn’t need gloves, and while we’re at it I assumed since there has been water and Gatorade on the course before (provided to me at no effort on my part by nice runners who buy the water and Gatorade and cups and leave it at intervals) that the same thing would happen again (because of course it shouldn’t change) and – thus – I additionally assumed I could leave my fuel of choice behind in the car.

So it happens then that I find myself at mile .67 with a co-runner who is wondering aloud, since we’re running a different course than usual, will there still be water and Gatorade on the course.  I look at my empty hands and panic.  NO WATER.  NO GATORADE.  I HAVE13 MILES TO GO.  WHAT DO I DO NOW?

Trying to ignore the panicked little brain cell which is screaming loudly in my head I twitch nervously and mention several times to co-runners that I have no water and no fuel.  Apparently I believe they are both blind and deaf and continue to repeat myself.

The fates having pity on my running partners, a front runner returns to report that there is, indeed, fuel on the course.

Damn good thing I spent some time in a fit over that or fate might not have figured things out and fixed it for me.

Around mile 5 I realize I’d probably have to run 31 miles before I’d dehydrate anyway, because I gotta go.  Informed that the bathroom at mile 7 is usually unlocked I spend the next two miles fretting about where I’m gonna go if it’s locked.  Why, yes, there is a forest of trees right next to the (possibly) locked bathroom but now I need to figure out exactly which tree I would use – made more difficult by the fact that I’m still a mile away from the trees and cannot see them to know which tree would work.

Spending those two miles feverishly planning my locked – unlocked – tree – locked -unlocked – tree options apparently changed fate because the bathroom was, indeed, unlocked.

Turning back toward home we head into the wind.  The greatly anticipated and attired-for warmth of a sunny day has died a lingering and sorrowful death and I repeatedly mention to my blind and deaf running partners that it’s cold and there’s a wind and I didn’t bring gloves as I hold out my bare hands to their blind eyes as proof.

Fate had apparently tired of my incessant whining and desiring of things being fixed to meet my (supposed) needs and did not turn off the wind and turn on the sun.

At mile 9 my right hip and calf begin vague crampings.  Since the day has been nothing but disappointment, fear and worry, I’m pretty sure by now that I have Butt Falling Off Syndrome and this will probably be the last run I ever have and how would I handle it if I couldn’t run because I intend to run until I die and I’m not planning death today and also if I do have Butt Falling Off Syndrome and my butt falls off I won’t be able to sit down ever again, I would just tip over.

This is most definitely not the run I had planned and visualized.  This needs to change and it needs to change now.  I need my butt to quit hurting and I need the sun to come out and I need the wind to stop and I need –

– and suddenly I realize I need to do the same every other created thing except man does:  adapt.  Change myself to fit the day before me and quit looking at what the world needs to change to meet my expectations.

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If I were a month I would be any month but January.

I think being January would be kinda like being the kid in 5th grade whose mom wouldn’t let them shave their legs and made them still wear bobby socks with their Keds and wouldn’t buy them a bra because why would you spend good money on something you don’t need?  Not that I know what that would be like.  I’m just guessing.  From books I read.  About nerds like Harry Potter.

No one looks forward to January except moms, and that’s only because the winter holidays are finally over thank gawd and the kids are going back to school.  No one runs around shouting  YAY!  January!  Picnics!  Vacations!  Holidays!   The only holiday in January is Martin Luther King Day, and no offense to a great man but do you want the only famous day in your month to be a dead guy?  February – which has the same identical crappy weather as January – at least gets Valentine’s Day.  And the Super Bowl.  Even the Super Bowl doesn’t like January.

If January were a color it would be grey.  Steel grey, molten grey, heather grey, blue grey, grey grey.  The trees are kinda grey, even the last few dead leaves are brown grey, hanging there, taunting homeowners, “Nanner Nanner I’m not going to fall!  HAHAHAHA!  Rake those other leaves!  Shake your fist at me!  I’m not leaving!”  Not that I ever feel that way, that leaves are taunting me.

January has about 6 hours of daylight per day.  Sure, ‘they’ say the shortest day is in December (SEE?  January doesn’t get that, either) but – and who are ‘they’ anyway?  Did you ever see a picture of ‘they’?  Where do ‘they’ live?  Who put ‘they’ in charge?  Huh? – but anyway I’d like to see anyone prove it.  It’s dark when I get up, it’s dark when I get dressed, it’s still dark when I make coffee.  It’s dark in the afternoon and every day I think, OMGosh where did the time go I have to make dinner it must be 6pm and it’s only 4:20.  And there I was all panicked because maybe I thought I’d been playing that crossword game for four hours but really it was only 1-1/2 hours and it’s not 6pm yet so I still have time to make dinner before the hubs thinks I’m a slug.  Not that I actually play crossword games for four hours.  I’m just guessing that some people do.

I feel sorry for January.  Probably what happened when God decided to make months is that during Story Time January was just sitting there minding it’s own business when suddenly the kid in front of him was like talktalktalk and January said Hush, and the kid said talktalktalk and January said Be Quiet, and the kid said talktalktalk and January said HUSH up! and then the teacher made January sit in the corner for talking.  So that made January late and it was last in line and that was the only month left by then.  And January probably didn’t tell his mom he got set in the corner until he was like 23 years old.  Altho I’m just guessing.

Also January is the month that all the people who ate way too much food since mid-November decided they would quit eating food and join the gym and swim and run and cycle and go to yoga and lose 43 pounds.  So by the end of the month all anyone remembers about January is that they are so sore they cannot stand, sit, lie or walk and they didn’t lose a damn pound and they spent $399.99 for the mutherdamn gym membership.  Altho I did not do that.  I’m just guessing.

So anyway, when you’re sitting at the desk paying bills in January thinking about all the damn money someone spent on something they don’t need and keep writing 2011 instead of 2012 and having to cross out the damn check and start over, just take a minute to think about January and how sad it would be if you were January.

Slide 1.1 Visual Guide to Proper Runner Safety in Case of Code 10++++ Danger

Every morning when I wake up this tree is staring in my bedroom window so now I hide in the bathroom to get dressed.

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