| It's the last post. |
[Mar. 21st, 2005|10:08 am] |
| [ | aesthetic in my head |
| |  poof! | ] |
| [ | din in my head |
| | ding dong the witch is dead | ] |
Well, this is my last post in Livejournal.
This weekend I set up my own domain, and finally got my WordPress template together. Jason had a lot to do with it, actually. I'm pretty sure I took a nap during some of the development.
In any case, you should change your link to http://outsidecat.com/wordvehicle and live happily ever after. |
|
|
| S A T U R D A Y - NIGHT! |
[Mar. 18th, 2005|09:36 am] |
| [ | aesthetic in my head |
| |  more excited than necessary | ] |
| [ | din in my head |
| | Canyon Ride - Beachwood Sparks | ] |
I'm looking forward to my weekend. I wasn't last night, but after one of those phone conversations that in itelf is kind of gut wrenching but then provides a soporific and detoxifying effect I realized that this is going to be a great weekend.
The part that most concerns this here blog is that I'm planning on launching outsidecat.com, complete with blogness. That means no more livejournal. I'll have photoability, and uh, a bunch of other neat stuff. Yeah, a Bedazzler. Two of them.
I'm also going bowling at an alley in Chicago that has four lanes. There are human pinsetters, and you tip them by rolling a couple bucks and shoving it into one of the holes of your ball. I simply cannot wait. What will I wear?
I'm also going to have brunch with Anthony and Kristin, and listen to some Sunday afternoon jazz at the Green Mill.
Perhaps Saturday night, pre bowling, I'll have a launch party for outsidecat. Hmm. I wonder who would be around last minute, and I wonder if it will actually get done.
Last night I put together a sitemap image that I'm pretty happy with, and it really ties the site together. Literally and aesthetically. Now all I need are some model release forms back from some of my friends. Then I'll be set, like Erector. |
|
|
| Best idea ever. |
[Mar. 17th, 2005|02:50 pm] |
| [ | aesthetic in my head |
| |  helping people is fun | ] |
I was listening to NPR (last Sunday?), and heard part of a piece about group - or a person - or somebody in some county in some state (are you with me?) who decided that
Geez. I've confused myself even. Let me start over.
There have always been problems with the foster care system. Children are in foster care in hopes of placing them back with their parents, instead of being adopted and staying with one family forever. Unfortunately, there are folks who host foster kids for the subsidy.
Placing kids with good families is a problem. Someone (and I don't know who because I can't freaking find the story) decided that part of the problem is the presentation of information about the children. The files with each kids history and whatnot comes with a passport style photograph.
This impersonal and mugshot-looking picture would never capture the true essence of a child.
Photographers volunteered to photograph the children, I believe in a gym on a Saturday, using their own backgrounds and lighting and whatnot. The county was able to sign release forms, since the children were under its legal care.
Warm, funny, heartfelt photographs of children really acting like themselves were taken. The children had all sorts of attention paid to them. One girl said that she felt like a movie star.
I don't remember the numbers, so I'll make them up. Something like 17 of the 44 children photographed were almost immediately placed with families.
The state of New Jersey has decided to do the same thing - photographing all of the children in its system.
Doesn't that sound amazing? Can you imagine the difference a sweet personality-capturing photograph would make on people who aren't sure if they want to be foster parents?
So here's the deal. This NPR story has captured my imagination. What are the downsides? There isn't the pain-in-the-ass consent form issue, because the state would provide that. A couple of photographers, a couple rolls of film, and you'd have images of children that would make you want to adopt them, not discard them.
The foster care system seems to affect the lives of children in a very negative way. Any child spared of this experience would be one more person less likely to be unhappy, unsuccessful, or even criminal.
It seems like a really simple solution to a problem that affects people for the rest of their life. Has anybody else listened to the story? I can't seem to find it anywhere, and I'd like to listen to the whole thing, to find out if this is a nonprofit organization, or if this is a state-by-state effort. I'm down. |
|
|
| Bruno the Pretzel Man |
[Mar. 17th, 2005|02:46 pm] |
This makes my heart sing with joy. This is exactly the right combination of random acts of kindness (the pre-emtive kind) and ANARCHY! AHHHH! BLahrghrahr!
(Taken from the Daily Kos)
Slacktivist has a suggestion for fighting back:
By my junior year of college I'd had enough of the credit card advertisements.
They were on every bulletin board on campus. They were on the boards in the mailroom, in the dorms, even on the boards of the various academic departments [...]
I didn't like the way those ads were luring so many of my friends and classmates into perpetual debt. And I didn't like the way all this increasing debt was changing the nature of higher education into a kind of glorified vo-tech system that was meant to do little more than enhance your future earning potential.
So like I said, I'd had enough.
I took down the ads. Every last one of them. I recycled all the posters, the fliers, the business reply envelopes.
They replaced them, of course, but I got rid of all of those as well. It became a weekly ritual. I'd make the rounds regularly. I carried a staple remover wherever I went.
So the point here is, if you're a college student, or a college professor, or even if you're the parent of a college student: Get yourself a staple remover.
It's a small gesture, but effective activism can be built out of thousands of tiny acts. |
|
|
| Money later or experience now? (Or Science Now, I suppose.) |
[Mar. 17th, 2005|10:18 am] |
| [ | aesthetic in my head |
| |  I mean, really. | ] |
| [ | din in my head |
| | nnnnnt! | ] |
See, I have this $300 voucher through Continental that's burning a hole in my pocket.
There's also the Coachella festival next month, and I could fly there free (using my voucher). Then it would merely be the cost of the festival tickets ($150), on-site camping ($40), and food for the weekend. That's still over $200.
I promised myself that the trip to Ireland was a deal because we were staying with friends and therefore was cheaper than going to Ireland and having to hostel/hotel/motel/Holidae Inn it. I told myself that after that, I would save like a Ctrl+S. This plan, this idea of spending two glorious days in the hot sun listening to music and possibly even maybe hanging out with Sheive really sounds like it's worth at LEAST $200. If you add up the cost of seeing music, plus the cost of finding a climate that is warm, that adds up to $200 already. (For me - I'm full of cabin fever.)
I'm torn.
I'm also supposed to be going on a sweet week-long roadtrip in July, which would involve a flight out to NYC, then a flight home from Austin. The voucher really could come in handy for that too.
What does a girl do? I'm planning on, as my library mentor said, "eek out a small living" with my graduate assistantship (which I technically don't have, and just assume I will have). Saving money now, even $200, might serve me well when I really really want to do more than eat, sleep, poo, and study. |
|
|
| Here he comes to save the day ... |
[Mar. 16th, 2005|10:04 am] |
| [ | aesthetic in my head |
| | generally content | ] |
| [ | din in my head |
| | Mighty Mouse theme - in my head | ] |
I love discussions about what songs get stuck in your head. Personally, when I get a song stuck in my head, I just have to hum a few 'do do do-do's from a particular Suzanne Vega song. Out with the old, in with Tom's Diner.
On Stereogum, there's an article that shows a poll of songs people get stuck in their heads. Then, in the comments section, people posted more. I found it highly amusing.
Today I have to finish filling out my brackets for the men's college basketball tournament. The pool is over $250, so it's well worth the effort. I think Illinois is going to choke, but other than that, I haven't figured out all the nitty gritty. Post a comment if you have an opinion, and if I win, I'll split the proverbial kitty. |
|
|
| Tic Tacs are the new Smint |
[Mar. 15th, 2005|01:10 pm] |
Last night I went shopping. Retail shopping. I haven't done that in ages. I ended up buying this fabe-u-los mint green corduroy jacket. Am I turning into both a retail shopper and a girly girl?
I shouldn't scrutinize who I think I am. I don't think I'm too over-the-top anything - not too hippy, not too corporate, and not too geeky. Maybe a girly phase is just what I need.
(I did shave my legs. This is a common indicator that one is going through a girly phase.)
Last night I continued working on the sweater I'm knitting for my brother. It is a good sweater pattern in it's own right, but I added a little something special to it. The back is plain in the pattern, but I've knitted a two inch high letter 'A' just below the base of his neck. I was trying to chart out my own 'A' - but it took Abbie and a Word file to come up with something legible and stylish. I was going for the Ambrose A. You know, like the tattoo on Andy Allen. |
|
|
| You Know What I Like? |
[Mar. 14th, 2005|01:28 pm] |
| [ | aesthetic in my head |
| |  Unitarian heaven | ] |
| [ | din in my head |
| | Kitty on my foot and I want to touch it. | ] |
Last night I did finally do my laundry. In fact, I also hand washed stuff too. Amazing.
Anyway, I seem to always do laundry at the same time as another couple in the building. I know it's the same people because it's men and women's clothing, and her jeans are the same size as mine.
Last night I went down to start the ol' process, and someone was in laundry room ('nook' would be more appropriate). It was DownstairsNeighbor. We introduced ourselves, and I observed that they must have friends over a lot on the weekends. (Jason and I actually held glasses to the floor to hear better one Friday night. It sounded like a combination video game party/orgy.) She said that I should come down some time. Sweet. Her name is Jamie and her husband's name is Bobby. I wonder, judging by the amount of Sublime that's played, if they'll be anything like that one crowd I hung around in collge sometimes.
Later that night, when I was sleepy and cursing myself for forgetting about the wash, I went to transfer wet clothes to the dryer. I was surprised to find my clothes already in the dryer, with five minutes left to go. Jamie must have paid the $1.30 to dry my clothes.
Totally awesome. I always think about doing stuff like that, but then I think my neighbors will think I'm creepy. Now I have a really good excuse to bring some beer bread down to them on a Friday night when I happen to be around.
If we were all as cute and endearing as Amelie, it would be easier, but it's nice to know that there are other people who are willing to forgo the 'creepy' factor and perform random acts of kindness anyway. |
|
|
| El Gato Gordo Part Deuce |
[Mar. 14th, 2005|11:10 am] |
| [ | aesthetic in my head |
| |  sleepy | ] |
| [ | din in my head |
| | meowmeowmeowmeow | ] |
Monday, March 14 2005
7:50 a.m. - Decide that I should get up, and perhaps it will stop the meowing.
8:00 a.m. - Can hear cat mewing through door while showering.
8:15 a.m. - Eat oatmeal next to deck window, cat sits quietly next to me.
8:20 a.m. - Leave for work. Can hear cat meowing, perhaps in 2/4, as I leave building.
Oh, by the by, the reason I was reminded that I really wanted a cat was because I was watching a TV show, and there were some awesome cat on it. Oddly, I found a mention of the show here, on Nerve's Scanner. The "Crush of the Week" is the host of the show that is responsible for the past twenty four hours of my life. |
|
|
| El Gato Gordo |
[Mar. 13th, 2005|11:50 pm] |
| [ | aesthetic in my head |
| |  but she's neat | ] |
| [ | din in my head |
| | meowmeowmeowmeow | ] |
Sunday, March 13 2005
10:00 a.m. - Wake up and eat a croissant. Knit while watching college basketball
11:00 a.m. - Jason wakes up and looks at me confusedly as I am watching college basketball
12:00 p.m. - Jake, Jason, and I watch Freaks and Geeks episode that begins with drumalong to Rush song.
2:00 p.m. - Leave Jason's, drive up to Kenosha.
3:30 p.m. - Meet woman who is offering up her cat. Sit around for an hour and a half as she tells stories about cat. Daughter is at the age where she's experimenting with humor. She refers to their basement as three things: dirty, dirty, and dirty. Watch 1 year old wrench cat's tail around and pull lots of hair out. Become convinced that I must take cat with me. Woman refers to cat as Katrina, Trina, Treeny, and Mon Chi Chi. Contemplate changing a 13-year-old cat's name.
5:00 p.m. - Thank God. Finally leave with cat in carrier, water and food dispensers, litter box, and rabies papers. Even if the cat kicks it tomorrow, will have saved $100 in pet accoutrement
5:40 p.m. - After mewing in a 4/4 rhythm for the duration car ride, cat and I return to Casa Waukegan. I put out food, water, and litter box, and orient cat to new setup.
7:00 p.m. - Having called Allison and Alena to brag about fluffy kitty, I settled down to watch Simpsons and Arrested Development and knit.
8:30 p.m. - Switch over to crap detective program, and become enthralled with knitting.
8:40 p.m. - The cat is watching TV. Hm.
10:30 p.m. - Cat begins mewing in 4/4 time again, and decide that cat is telling me to shut off lights and go to bed.
11:00 p.m. - Shut off lights and read "The Tipping Point" in bed.
11:03 p.m. - Cat begins meowing in 6/8 time. |
|
|
| Good God I'm Farty. |
[Mar. 11th, 2005|03:45 pm] |
| [ | aesthetic in my head |
| | purring | ] |
| [ | din in my head |
| | La Femme d'Argent -Air | ] |
TGIF, yo. I'm looking forward to my weekend. I have a double-birthday party tonight, and a cat to meet in Sunday. By the end of the weekend, I plan to be partied out and catted up. Yeah yeah.
I've started knitting a sweater for my brother. I bought the yarn about a year ago, at a sweet yarn store in Muscatine. I've been sitting on this yarn (nine skeins adds a lot of bulk to one's stash) for long enough! I finally found a pattern I liked, and then I realized that my brother's particular frame is nothing like the pattern. I spent a night with a book of graph paper and a calculator, and came up with my own version.
So I'm freestyling, I guess you could say. Yo, my stitches are fat and this aint no weave ...
I just realized that South By Southwest music festival is coming up and again this year I have no imminent plans to go. Last year Jason and I were torn between driving down to Texas for SXSW, or driving up through Canada to New York to visit his mom. Mom won out, although the weather would have been much better. Alas, maybe some sort of body-part fairy or godmother will bestow upon me some sweet tickets and a week off.
So this cat thing is actually Martha Stewart's fault. I was watching TV last Saturday morning, and I ran across a pet show. The show was not particularly fascinating, but there was this cat, and it made me realize that I wanted a cat.
Now, I've had a cat. You might have met my cat, Maceo. Around the house in Iowa City, he was mostly referred to as (and this is at the top of one's lungs): NO! NO! NOOOO! or FUCK OFF. Maceo was and always will be an outside cat. He had a lot of fun qualities, but he was also kind of terrible. Kind of like a child, I imagine.
So anyway, I've been kind of gun shy about a cat. On Abbott's intranet, there's a wanted/for sale page. A woman in Kenosha is getting rid of her half-Siamese 13-year-old cat because she accrued a husband, three kids, and a dog since she and the cat first joined up. The cat is miserable, hides under the bed all day, and needs a quieter home. Not that she's wheezy, just that she gets sat upon and played with roughly.
She's already declawed, and is a lap cat. These qualities alone make her exactly Maceo's opposite. I mean, if she just wants to chill out and read the pape, I've got no problem with that. It's if she attacks my head in the middle of the night, or climbs up on screen doors that we'll have a problem. I'm willing to drive to Kenosha to see.
Jason pointed out that cat-allergic folks like Kate and Aden won't want to come over. I pointed out that 1. I live in Waukegan, and 2. I vacuum. |
|
|
| The World According to GORP |
[Mar. 10th, 2005|04:12 pm] |
| [ | aesthetic in my head |
| |  sad. | ] |
I don't know if you know this, but I have this epic trail mix that's been an ongoing part of my life since 2001. The person I most clicked with at Camp Little Cloud during the summer I was a camp counselor was Emily (or Pebbles, for those in the know). We both came with our own trail mix, and at one point, mixed them together. My sunflower seeds were in with her raisins, and her two-year-old Valentines M&Ms were in with my stale Cheerios.
As the summer progressed, we dumped more variants into this bucket of GORP. GORP stands for Good Old Raisins and Peanuts, which is the base of any good trail mix, but now because of our combined efforts, there were now soy nuts and Craisins and dark chocolate bits and a bunch of other stuff. At one point, I began adding dinner mints, for when your trail mix is your lunch, it's nice to finish it off with a minty bit so you don't continue mowing as you hike. These alterations and Frankensteinations ultimately became what is known as Zen GORP. I have the recipe somewhere in a journal.
At the end of camp, Emily and I went our separate ways. She went off to college in Ashland, WI, and I went off to D.C. for a year of liquid intense at AmeriCorps. She helped save wild Utah, I fought fire in Maryland. She studied at the Audubon Society Center in Minnesota, and I went to Florida to work with Habitat for Humanity. We got together that next summer and traded GORP again. We doubled the sights our GORP had seen by remixing it together.
I stored my GORP in a gallon ZipLock with the heavy duty zip. On it, I wrote all the states the GORP had been to. We both just kept adding to what we had, and much like Friendship Bread (ask your mothers) the stuff always had a little bit of an old addition. My favorite was finding a really old Valentines M&M, and eating it triumphantly.
The GORP travelled with me to Munich, and I always meant to send Em a baggie full so she could add it to hers and have truly international GORP. The GORP hung out in the freezer for a long time when I lived in Chicago, for there's no real reason to lug around a gallon baggie full of food everywhere you go.
Thus began the downfall of the GORP. I dont need a constant travel food the way I used to. I lament this fact. I wish I was hiking and canoeing and camping and travelling around, and required a culinary companion. I haven't restocked the GORP bag in a long time. I've merely added chocolate chips to fill it out a little.
Today, I brought GORP with me to work, because I won't have a chance to eat dinner tonight, and it pinch hits nicely in this capacity. I've been sitting at my desk, eating handfuls of the bottom of the bag. As I sat here, I looked down and realized that the years and years of nut hulls had accumulated at the bottom of the bag, and I was now eating this dust. (Much like the last bowl of cereal.) My dark shirt and pants were bespeckled with bits of GORP dander.
It ocurred to me that this wouldn't be a problem if I was outside; most likely the wind would blow it right off of me, or I could stand up and brush it to the ground, making a snack for ants.
Sitting in my cubicle, I became sad. |
|
|
| Geek/Jock/Cheerleader/Band Geek/GIRL SCOUT? |
[Mar. 9th, 2005|04:44 pm] |
| [ | aesthetic in my head |
| | damn star looks the same | ] |
| [ | din in my head |
| | nay | ] |
Jason and I started watching all of the Freaks and Geeks DVDs. We've both never seen any of the episodes, and I think - nay, I state - that we're hooked.
As soon as I got to work this morning, I IMDB'd the show, because I knew some of these actors had gone on to do stuff I have seen. I'm proud to have made the connection myself, but the bully in the first few episodes is actually Squints from The Sandlot. HA!
Somehow, that makes me feel triumphant. Perhaps that's because we live in a world where I just can't get that from hunting down prey for a meal. |
|
|
| Holy Kidneys |
[Mar. 8th, 2005|06:59 pm] |
| [ | aesthetic in my head |
| |  lattelicous | ] |
| [ | din in my head |
| | Oil Change - Dan Potthast | ] |
This morning, I was determined to be cheerful. I wore the pink shirt that came in the care package from my mom, and I bought myself and my favorite co-worker lattes at the Abbott cafeteria.
Two thirds of the way through, I realized that I was drinking two shots of espresso plus some sugary syrups. Yeah.
My kidneys hurt. I haven't hallucinated, but now I know (the hard way) that I have not cured myself of my coffee sensitivity yet.
Hey - hey - so I might get a cat. There's this cat that someone at Abbott is getting rid of, and it's sooo cute (and clawless and spayed and all those good things). I'm going up to Kenosha on Friday night to meet and maybe become the foster owner of a cat named Katrina. Don't worry, I'll keep you updated. |
|
|
| (no subject) |
[Mar. 7th, 2005|03:07 pm] |
| [ | aesthetic in my head |
| |  mommy, I want to go home | ] |
| [ | din in my head |
| | Roman Candle -Elliott Smith | ] |
Here's a really great link to a blog that has been collecting international school yard rhymes. It makes me happy that I came across this, since I was just waxing nostalgic about the same subject.
That's all I got. Most of my attention is being paid to my after-work plans. I'm going to take my car in for an oil change, work out whilst watching the Simpsons, then spend the evening frogging a scarf and reknitting it, with a Netflixed DVD of Sex and the City (I'm almost done with them, which will mean no more disgusted looks on Jason's face as he opens my mail). |
|
|
| Today was a good day |
[Mar. 4th, 2005|11:13 am] |
| [ | aesthetic in my head |
| |  Getting things done | ] |
| [ | din in my head |
| | Garden State soundtrack | ] |
1. Jason is coming home from Seattle.
2. My mom took the day off, and is writing occasional emails to me from home.
3. I had orange pop for breakfast because I woke up craving it, and it tasted as good as I needed it to.
4. Kat's dad, well, he's really really neat. He wins the Dad/Karma award.
5. My dad is substitute teaching calculus today, which will be a challenge he'll actually enjoy.
6. There was International Creamer for my coffee today.
7. It's pizza day.
8. Yesterday was Kate B's birthday, and I plan on buying her at least one beer this weekend.
9. I got a really good long email from Lia.
10. Hey-hey-I don't have to take the GRE.
Yesterday was good too -
Last night as I walked downstairs to the childrens department at the Waukegan public library, I saw what looked like two security guards. In my head, I just thought "black coats with patches over the left breast, familiar, must be security". As I got closer, I realized that the coats looked familiar because they said "AmeriCorps NCCC" on them. I introduced myself as an alum, and asked which campus they were from. The Denver campus covers Illinois, but you never know. As it turns out, they were from the Capitol Region - D.C. - where I had been. We talked for about a half hour about what changes had been made to the program, what it was like on their team, whether or not they had found anything cool in the ceiling tiles above their rooms, whether or not they had snuck into the infirmary yet ... it was so cool talking to them. Some of the staff had changed, but the two main people were still there. They asked me what year I was from, and I said Class 8. They are in Class 11. I haven't thought about it for a while, but it's been a long time since AmeriCorps. I've forgotten the names of the dorm wings. As we were talking, I felt really old and like I was trying to gain some of the excitement back that I felt from AmeriCorps.
I'm OK with having a grownup's life, because along with the excitement of AmeriCorps was a lot of angst and general bullshit. I think if I want that again, I'll choose a new adventure. |
|
|
| I'm so tired, like a Beatles song. |
[Mar. 3rd, 2005|02:54 pm] |
| [ | aesthetic in my head |
| | snnnnnnggggggggg | ] |
OK, really, that's all I got. I don't know how I'm going to wake up enough to be productive. Tonight I volunteer at the library, and just hope I don't put 93.66234 before 83.663512!
(woot - that's a Dewey joke for you) |
|
|
| Bouncing |
[Mar. 2nd, 2005|12:35 pm] |
| [ | aesthetic in my head |
| | yeah | ] |
| [ | din in my head |
| | mmmm Lena | ] |
This is the role my sister plays: she's like a mirror that I look in, and I get to see a slightly cynical but realistic view of myself. In fact, I've mastered the power: just thinking of her, I can suddenly see myself with a critical eye. It's not always pretty, it's not always nice, but it certainly never hurts in the long run. (This sounds kind of awful, but it's because I have more self esteem than your average bear, and sometimes I get a little carried away.)
This doesn't keep me from making poor decisions anyway, but it's always there. (This is just one of the many benefits of being Alena's sister -- the others involve playing Harry Potter trivia, and getting tea and homemade scones.)
The point is -- THE POINT IS -- I like to make new plans. I have a severe case of wunderlust, and I like to be in a constant state of upheaval. As I was talking to Lena last night on the phone, I was telling her about this camp I want to work at this summer, instead of staying at my high paying job in Waukegan, before going to grad school in the fall. I knew as I was explaining it to her that if it were a plan made of wishes and dreams (something that I see as quick-crete solid) she would point out the flaws immediately.
I still want to be at a camp this summer ... it's the opposite of working at a cubicle for a pharmaceutical company. |
|
|
| smile smile |
[Mar. 1st, 2005|05:21 pm] |
| [ | aesthetic in my head |
| | uh, smiley? | ] |
| [ | din in my head |
| | yeah, no | ] |
I was once told that my normal face is one of almost smiling. That really struck me - I've always thought of myself as one who's default setting was 'happy'.
This article, found in Boing Boing, from the Times Online, provides some straight up data about how smiles are different, and what can be inferred from the smile.
You know when you say or read a word over and over and it stops working as a symbol of whatever it is (yogurt yogurt yogurt) and becomes a series of sounds or letters that become completely foreign? As I was reading this article, every time I saw the word 'smile', I couldn't help but smile. I think it's because even when the word is stripped of meaning, it still visually looks nice. So I kept smiling as I read about smiles, then smiling more when I realized how aesthetically pleasing the little letters looked together.
See, somewhere along the line, I decided to be happy all the time. This is what you get. It's a bucket of sunshine, and I know you kind of want to kick it over, but if you do, you'll just loathe yourself a little more. |
|
|
| Rabbit rabbit rabbit! |
[Mar. 1st, 2005|10:47 am] |
| [ | aesthetic in my head |
| | R3, everybody | ] |
| [ | din in my head |
| | still the Cars, residually from this morning's shower | ] |
Woo! It's the first day of March, and I'm scraping snow off my car this morning. Is it March that we get to say "In like a lion, out like a lamb?"
If so, we're going to have some mighty nice weather coming up. Really, that's all I want for March. I want one weekend day to be at least 50 degrees, so I can go outside and run around and get my shoes and the hem of my pants muddy.
A very strong cyclical memory for me is playing outside in March. After acclimating to winter temperatures, 50 degrees felt so warm, and I could go out with a hoodie on - which felt so so so much freer than a winter coat. The whole yard would be muddy and wet, and I would run about gleefully in the dead grass (not yet recovered from being covered with snow). I'd go out to the corn crib to check out what had changed with the cats and all. There would be boards to stack and corn flour (found on the grinder, where the metal cracked) to make into flat thick patties. My knees would be soaked, and my hands would be covered in muddy corn water. I'd get really cold because 50 degrees is not warm enough to make being wet comfortable.
When I think of March, I think of my hands achingly cold, but not caring because the sun was shining stronger than ever, and I finally had my outside playground back. That might be the strongest feeling of satisfaction I've ever felt. |
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| [ |
go |
| |
earlier |
] |
| |
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
sundaykofax's journal
