Sunday, March 5, 2017
I am so tired that we decide to drive home after watching the women's superpipe finals live on the side of the mountain.
Still, it is so warm out. I must do something.
I tell myself that I will go out for an easy 35 minutes, no big. I pump up the tires and climb astride my bike for the first time since when--November? It feels like it's always been winter. It feels hard to remember those days riding my bike in shorts. Today I am wearing skintight blue yoga tights, wool socks pulled up over my calves, an undershirt, a long-sleeved thermal, and a golden fanny pack. Within five minutes I'm having the time of my life. I take the biggest hill--20 long minutes of straining quads so I can spend three minutes flying down. Then downtown, then away from it, around the perimeter of the next town over, ducking onto the golf course paths that I skied not four weeks ago, up and down over the rollers until I hit another big hill and this one, seeing as it is lined with trees, is still covered in snow. I dismount and hoist the bike over my shoulder, carry it up to the top of the hill, climb astride again and fly down. I hit a few more snowy patches but they're passable so long as I go slow and use my abs to keep the bike from shooting out from under me when slush gives way beneath the tires. I pass neighbors and friends and so many happy dogs. I shoot up into my neighborhood an hour later calling hellos over my shoulder. I skid to a stop outside the apartment, panting. Above me a flock of birds glides like jazz.
Thursday, March 2, 2017
I'll admit I was startled. I haven't seen a bug in so long.
Because I was gone all day at the Master Gardener training Wilson has ziplocked himself to my chest. Pets and kisses are nice but the important thing is that our bodies remain in as much contact as possible. He has gained a little weight, what with turning eight years old and living in a smaller space (where there are fewer opportunities for mad dashes across rooms or up stairs), and his ten pounds press into me like one of those weighted security blankets, only this one is warm and it purrs.
Today I brought home seeds of calendula, jojoba, mini hollyhocks, lemonbalm, self-heal. I will plant them along with the rosemary, lettuces, hardy greens. I will learn how to harvest them into salves and tinctures and facial scrubs. I am still waiting to hear back from the community garden but in the meantime my neighbor has offered to build me my own garden bed in her backyard.
In exchange, I taught her about vermicomposting.
We have fought again and I have cried again and I have felt mistrustful again and so it goes.
I am realizing that I don't have my shit together as much as I thought.
I am realizing that I need to feel cared for more than I thought.
I am realizing that I do not know how to let myself feel cared for.
Realization is worth a pound of cure.
Her face is aged but only because an artist spent hours applying the makeup, adjusting the wig, outfitting her with glasses. What a weird world.
Friend I miss you so much I'm sorry I haven't been in touch. I remember telling you to go for it after watching you in that play, seeing you grow and honor yourself. I care about you so much and I am sorry my actions have not made that clear.
Can you believe I've lived in Colorado for nearly a year.
I am going to focus on myself, being all I can be, and let the chips fall where they may.
Tomorrow morning, after yoga, I am getting a massage. Tomorrow evening I am participating in one of my favorite annual traditions.
There is still something to be said.
I wish I could try a bite of that.