when the winds shift in the other direction...

It happened so suddenly.

All it took was one e-mail this morning from someone in Blacksburg about something quite simple, and then my whole thinking shifted.

I mean, all this time, I knew...somewhere in the back of my mind...I must have known...that soon I would be returning to that other 'burg quite soon...

I feel like I've been living in a kind of daze for weeks now. My routine is sosimple. Get up, get ready for work, work for 8-9 hours with a lot of fantastic people in a comfortable building, go swimming or go for a walk, go home & cook, read and/or watch Six Feet Under, go to sleep, start the whole thing over again.

Many weekends have either consisted of extended versions of the evening adventures--longer swimming, longer reading, a walk around the vegetable stand, an outdoor excursion--or a completely different adventure like going somewhere magical (Asheville!) or hosting someone fun (mom and goddessmother!).

And then, in one fell swoop...Thoughts in the Presence of Fear. (a title of an upcoming Appalshop film, but it fits here to match the idea that the school year cometh)

All of the sudden, my mind is racing! I need to buy books and get my oil changed and matriculate (something that always made me think of hairy palms) and organize my TrapperKeeper. I love/hate the last month before school begins. It reminds me of the feeling of playing Hide & Go Seek when you have to pee really badly. You're very excited and totally terrified at the same time.

Wait, I just realized that this could be my last semester of formal course work.

Ever.

Crap. Now why did I write that?

Now I'm really scared.

I gotta go take a dip.

bb's b'day

Last night was my roomie's 23rd birthday. We actually have a new roommate as well. A lovely, shiny redheaded, four-legged named Abe. Abe's not too sure he likes me yet, but I'm hoping he'll warm up to me because he's very, very cute. And the supersensor in me wants to touch his shiny coat all the time.

B. gave me one of the biggest honors possible. Despite the wealth of dining-out establishments in Whitesburg (insert sarcasm here) (and, yes, we could have driven to Norton or Hazard or Pikeville), she said that a dinner cooked by moi would be the perfect birthday feast. False humility aside, I really think this decision was fueled by her tiredness from weekend travel.

Still, it was superfun to be the captain of someone's birthday meal. While B. was taking Abe for an extendo walk around Fish Pond Lake (a location named by the Society for Redundancy Association), I was making dinner and setting the table. When she came back, we had dinner and she regailed me with stories of her travels. I regailed her with dim recollections of stories from my 23rd birthday. Then we made fried Angel Food Cake, because let's face it, Angel Food Cake really is too healthy for you, and the last fourth of it is difficult to finish off. The grand finale of the evening was an episode of Six Feet Under. We've been wathcing it steadily on DVD thanks to the Netflix Oracle.

The thing I love about my roommate is that she was entirely satisfied by this birthday. I made the comment that it wasn't dinner and dancing at the Ritz Carlton. She said, eh. At the age of 23, she's already reached that zen place in her life that many of us strive for where you feel peaceful and accomplished and celebratory just eating a blackberry (not punching dates and numbers into one) and laying on a couch, rubbing your foot across your dog's belly.

defining summer

the smell of freshly picked basil twirled carelessly between dirty, calloused fingers

eating angel food cake with quince sauce and listening to oldies on a kitchen radio

doing the twist in your underwear

washing dishes, smiling while thinking of someone faraway

watching a lonely cat waltz meaningfully down a lonesome, steamy road

writing poetry on stationery instead of napkins,
after dinner instead of at an intersection
(or crisis of confidence)

tossing merrigold buds into the corner of a garden

hearing the whisper of rain as it fulfills a promise

warming my face on a new friend's hearty bread

feeling the pinch of a mischievous mosquito

sweeping peach and tomato juice from my chin

falling headlong into the sadness of solitude (like a kid on a slip-n-slide)

mailing something outrageous & thinking...
...i deserve you...