Have you noticed your trees, shrubs, and plants perking up after the long winter? Well, some of mine are really stupid.
See that crabapple on the right? It is showing superior intelligence.
Here in Boulder, the month of March is generally our snowiest preceding an April where buds burst into brilliant spring color. But March has been warm; warm like May warm. The weather has the first two letters right, but that’s all. It’s the kind of warm that has butterflies bursting out of chrysalises and Boulderites hitting trails in shorts and T-shirts. Grocery stores are sold out of burgers, hotdogs and buns. Okay. I made that up, but it could happen.Continue reading →
I never noticed how many u’s there are in Chautauqua. Huh.
Oh. Sorry. Hey! How are yah!
Danny and I hiked in a Boulder park where the foothills meet the Flatirons. No they aren’t in an aisle in Target. The Flatirons are flat (yep), rock formations like the underside of an iron. The snow melted in the strong Colorado sunshine and I hoped I wouldn’t go slip sliding away.
This was my first real hike in Boulder since surgeryand I avoided the mud and slippery slush covered trail, big time, skipping over to the grass when I could. My technique was far from the nimble mountain goat and more like someone afraid of stepping on a land mine.
I clowned around while other hikers gave me the hairy eyeball. I have no shame, you know and I thought one of the pictures would make a great new profile picture. Continue reading →
This photo was taken in Jackson Hole, Wyoming my senior year in college. Yep. That’s me with the bota bag. Remember those? My friend and I stayed with ski bums who worked on the mountain as ski hosts. Little did I know drinking while skiing could be a very bad idea. I would face surgery becoming even more bionic thirty years later.
After five months of ski dreams, Jonesing over videos, and reading about new mountain developments, it’s ski season. I wondered if I’d get my butt kicked by the mountain. I always plan to exercise every day, but sometimes life, NaNoWriMo, Thanksgiving, or a thousand other excuses get in the way.
When I wrote my 25, 000th word for National Novel Writing Month, it reminded me of swimming through the Boulder Reservoir to touch the ice during the Polar Plunge on New Year’s Day. They’re both a sink or swim venture. It got tough when I could barely touch the bottom. My legs and arms grew heavy with the cold and they moved in slow motion. In place of the silly grin I wore while splashing into the frigid water was sheer determination and a painful wince. One of the lifeguards standing on the pier shouted, “Do you need help?” It was hard to breathe, but I yelled back, “I can do it!”
I don’t know how many have dropped out of NaNoWriMo already, but the numbers have got to be high. I think writing 50,000 words in a month takes a certain kind of endurance. Crazy endurance. It’s for crazy people who have the time to commit, or in my case should be committed, but also have a lot of nerve and stamina. I love taking on new challenges and always have.
Not everyone can sit down and write on command. It can be intimidating to stare at a blank page. I’ve never had writer’s block. Maybe it’s all those Thursdays I found myself on a deadline and would crank out a Friday flash fiction or the stream-of-conscious writing exercises from a year ago when I woke up every morning for a month and wrote one word at time in a notebook until I filled a page. In both, I wrote the first thing that popped into my head. Continue reading →