a lament

I don't check my mail very often. Maybe once every 8 days. What is the point? I mean, the only thing that comes to my box are bills. I honestly cannot remember the last time I received a real, honest to god letter. I think I was in college.

Instead of risking vulnerability this weekend, I opted for the safe bet--staying in my apartment and watching the complete first season of OC (also known as Orange County). A student did a speech on it and offered me her DVDs. My luck with the opposite sex is so terrible that eating snow lion or bombay house carry out while watching OC is not so bad. In fact, it's quite nice.

Today after working several hours at school, I passed by the old house to apologize to (talk to) my cats and to check up on things. I knew no one would be home this weekend, so I made the rounds. I will admit that come spring I am ready to work in the dirt--and I crave my time pulling weeds and planting new things in the garden.

The yard was out of control. My gardens, while the bulbs were happy and blooming, needed tending. I decided to park the car and work. I missed my time mowing. After spending 8 years passing over the same area of grass, I found I could do it blindfolded. I enjoyed the smell of grass and gasoline mixing together-- just like old times. In fact, it took me back years to my childhood mowing days.

And then I got to the back yard.

As I passed the gardens and noted all the work that needed to be done, I sobbed. I had to stop. Holding the running mower in my callosed hands I surveyed the grounds. The Bradford Pear that we planted our first year in the house during a torrential downpour was now higher than the house--and in full blossom. My daffodils were at their peak.

I stayed and worked until the grounds were permissible. I felt a longing and a tie to the land that I never imagined. This was probably the last time I would walk this area, dig in this spot, etc. etc. It was emotional and difficult and I found myself wanting to linger just a little longer...just long enough to make it look beautiful..

So, now back at the apartment.. My hands are swollen from working hard on a property that is no longer mine--but I feel obligated to keep it up-- as it should be. sigh.

I wonder what tomorrow's walk will be like and what is in store for me. And now back to episode seven of OC....

very changing image

La cara rimembranza che in cor mi s'e destata
si ardente v'ha gia fatta rinascer la speranza,
che un bacio, us voto, un grido d'amore
piu non chiedo a lei che muta e ognor.
-Stefano Donaudy


My time is precious now but just wanted to write something today.
Have not been writing in some time and I feel rusty.

This image appears frequently in my head:
dormant seed lying in the ground waiting
waiting for warmth and light
and soft rain

she whispers your name
waiting for love to grow

did you say something?

Wow. Where to begin? This week has been an awakening on multiple levels for me.
I suppose if you know me and have seen me lately you can tell something is different.

You could say that.
I think for the first time in years I am happy. I am happy with myself. That's what it is. Yeah. I feel great. I have come into my own--or for the first time in my life--I am rock solid.

Today I ran 3 miles and went straight to the pool for a 1/2 mile swim. It felt fine. Could have done more-- now on to roadwork. I'll be up and riding soon.
My stamina is great--and the bod is toning up nicely-nicely. Can't wait for the next time I can do it again.

The radio career is taking off--slowly---got compliments from the boss on my first attempt, which according to Gary is quite a feat. I think Jim just has a thing for smart, sexy, competent women. Well, who wouldn't? Touche.

My spontanious evening out attending Smokey Joe's turned into much more than I ever anticipated-- it was certainly nice to see something other than a computer screen on the other side of the Tro-HO table. Here's to the men who say YES.
Rrrowwww. Some men just don't know where to look. And most men just don't know. Period.

If you are driving through the College-2nd street intersection and see glass everywhere, that would be from my car. Yes, the 3rd accident with my new car in less than 4 months. Prior to having this car, I never had an accident. I think my car is a magnet for being at the right place at the wrong time. The damage this time was hefty. She hit me pretty hard--spewing shards of glass all the way up to the front seat. Fortunately, Lilly was ok. She bounces. I am stating for the record that the next accident will total the thing.

The Farmer's Market opened Saturday and I made the rounds. A co-worker from school says that I will meet the perfect man there, "while reaching for the same pear..or something." Ha. I am not holding my breath.

School is great. We are making Kimonos in one class, reciting Shakespeare in another. I get to hear speeches on the frightening genocide in Sudan--which had me running to the computer to join the Peace Corps. Now there's a thought.

And then there is the musical. And it is going to be good.

So I am enjoying the sunset over Highway 37 on my concrete slab and looking forward to sleeping with the window open tonight. I'll save my wishes for the stars later tonight. Til then--sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more! Men are deceivers ever.