now you see me...

The reunion has come and gone, and as i write, I am doing loads of laundry for our next trip. My, we do nothing but play these days! Well, except that we have been a little short handed for the work load we find ourselves juggling, with our housekeepers kids back in school and one last surge of vacationers through the county, blame the fall aspens for that. But this weekend, the first of our winter help will arrive and begin occupying the last bedroom still open in our house. Dont worry, there's still a bed in the den for you, whoe'er you be. But back to the vacation plans- we made non-refundable, non-transferable reservations, the only way we can think of to make it so that our vacation cannot be pushed off indefinitely.

It was good to see all of my cousins, the sweet, the eccentric, and the outright crazy (you know who you are). It was good to do crazy things like swim in the pool at 11:00 pm, in spite of the chilly wind and mist which finally gave in and turned to rain, lay on the Scott Lake Dam at midnight and watch the lights in their rippled reflections across the lake, and have to find our way through the Kosha weeds and yuccas by the light of a cell-phone display, because the full moon was hidden by clouds and no one had thought to bring a flashlight. And all the old photographs were a special treat. Thanks, to you who brought them, and even more thanks for narrating them, and regaling me with a few stories, you know that was a teaser for me. Now you'll have to write these things down for me. (oh, yes, you know who you are...) We only ended up occupying a cabin for one night. I am curious, how many other couples pulled the matresses from their twin beds, threw them onto the floor, spread a sleeping bag over both, and slept like babies? It almost felt like we were being naughty, cuddling in a king-sized expanse of bed surrounded by four very private walls, when everyone else was having to be all communal for the weekend. And the food, oh, my goodness, the food. Ramen noodles have never been so boring as the day we got home.

It has been a very misty, almost surreal day here. Warm, windstill, a touch of moisture, the humity and the sun behind it turning our mountains into odd, muted shades. On the way to work this morning, passing the lake, every minute detail on the surrounding hills was reflected, stretched across a barely rippled surface, weird blues, greens and violets flowing together, and in the middle of the lake, it's reflection appearing a mile long, a single sailboat without a breath of wind in it's sails. I wished desparately for a camera so I could share it.

I took my rollerblade wheels apart day before yesterday, cleaned and oiled the wheels, and had plans for hitting the bike path just any day now. Every day something comes up and it gets pushed off till a more convenient time. But I am feeling the itch to get out of the house, in fact, here i sit in my sports bra and shorts, looking, if not feeling ambitious. So far, havent decided where to go. Tonight may be the night for a run. I am sitting here with my water bottle, trying to make up for a day of drinking nothing except the milk required to wash down my cookies earlier because nothing is more miserable than running dehydrated, and berating myself for not making wiser food choices all day. Oatmeal Scotchies will get me nowhere I want to be.

Now I remember why I used to love running after dark in the winter. I left the house night before last with no destination in mind, and soon was so bewitched by my surroundings I forgot about my feet, which kept carrying me further and further from the house. After dark, the wind dies, and the scent of broken, dying flowers mingles with overtones of woodsmoke. The air is too cold to breath through one's nose, and one finds oneself drawing deep gulps of air through one's mouth, simply because one can, and ignoring the sting. There are two times I find myself running- when I am angry, and when I am going crazy from inactivity. When I am angry, I do not run hard. I do not listen to angry music, because the fact that I am out there is proof that I am trying to shake the feeling. I listen to gospel or folk or bluegrass, and sing along until I am out of breath, and do not turn around until I find that the verbal tirade in my mind has abated and catch myself thinking neutral thoughts, and feel foolish for letting anything get under my skin in the first place. But on nights like tonight, when I feel as though I have done nothing all day, I push my earbuds deep into my ears, and assault them with heavy metal, and run hard with my head up and my hands relaxed. I listen to misunderstood degenerates scream about the unfairness of life until they have me worked into a mood needing to be taken out on the blacktop, then switch to something that fits into the background, and before I know it, have slipped into a state of nirvana, no longer hearing the music or thinking any discernable thoughts, my strides have become as involuntary and painless as my heart beating or my eyelids blinking, and when I reallise how far I have gone, I have a long way home in the dark.

Gotta run...