So, here we are. *dusts off the furniture*
Dude, it has been a while, hasn’t it?
What do you think of the new digs? Brought all the old pieces over, freshened up the pages a tad. I’ve been working hard on the place as I worked on being summarily unable to compose anything new.
*Pulls up virtual chair*–do you need one?
I’m faking it right now, honestly. I still can’t put words in a string to call them a sentence, but…well, fake it ’til you make it, right? So, I’m going to ramble a bit today, perhaps again tomorrow, and one of these days we’ll get right again. Soon, I hope.
If you are coming over from the old page, thanks, and, yes, this really is in part to shake myself out of a rut that has been slowly squelching me since, oh, May? Yes, I also really did bleach my hair–sort of blonde now, though, really, my hair rejects all but red, so it’s a red-blonde, but it’s different, which is good. I’m thinking about going lighter, but I’ll need a professional to accomplish that, I suspect.
Interesting factoid: My kitten loves the smell of hair dye; she slept on my hair last night, sniffing it. Weird, yes? Or, my kitten has some issues.
Imagine that, eh?
The picture above (in the header) is from the trip to WA; it’s from Beach 4, I think, in Olympia National Park. Beautiful place. That’s Destruction Island way in the background.
One of the things I most liked about Olympia is, well, I’ve spent enough years playing at being a Romanticist to just go on and say it, haven’t I?…the beach is sublime. The good sublime, as in–the natural world reminding you that you are tiny and insignificant and still utterly welcome to absorb the beauty. Huge cliffs, currents that will quite clearly, rip you from the shoreline with narry a blink of the watery eye. And the driftwood.
Okay, seriously, beaches in Virginia have “driftwood”–pieces of smoothed over wood–some even about the size of my thigh. Washington, on the other hand, has drift-fucking-trees. There is no doubt that one of these suckers–be it wet in the ocean or dry on land, could off you in a moment. And there are piles and piles and piles of these drifttrees up and down the shoreline.
Some of them are escapees from the logging industry, while others are washed out from the local rain forests. Either way….they are trees. Big ones, at that. The picture at right is a good example of what I mean–see, there’s some legitimate driftwood there…but there are also whole freaking trees.
This might, as much as any other, be a good metaphor for how I’m feeling. Kind of bleak–kind of waiting for the next tree, but if I can manage to avoid them…all will be well.
So, anyway, welcome here. I’ll fake it for a while, but I’ll get back in the groove shortly. I hope. Hope you’ll pull up a tree and stay awhile. I’ll be posting more, even if it’s just random thoughts; I’ve never tried just making myself do it when it comes to writing–it works for running, so why not here? Use one of those fine running lessons, perhaps.
I’m still training for the half-marathon in VB on Labor Day weekend–and looking forward to it. Had a lousy-ass 12-miler on Saturday (hot, humid, read: training in the Deep South in the summer. Really?), started off well, but the humidity damn near killed me. On Sunday, however, I dragged myself against my will and what appeared to be better judgment out the door for five miles. And then ran it faster by almost 2 minutes than ever before.
Shows how good my judgment is. So, Sunday was a worthwhile run, once I committed to it. And, well, hot damn, this post is approaching something worthwhile too.
Mantra for the day: All is well. All will be well. (thanks, Rev. Dean).