Wet and wet and wet

So it has been raining here for DAYS and DAYS. The ground is soggy and full of puddles, and poor Myles has a dripping and muddy belly when he comes back inside. We are using lots of towels. On a happy note, all of my early-spring blooming bulbs are peaking up through the dirt. I spent a happy seven minutes yesterday morning when I let the dog out pulling creeping Jenny from among their green points. Only after the dog came sniffing up to me and I saw the dirt caked under my nails did I realize how zoned out I was digging in the dirt! How is it possible that February and March last twice as long as the rest of the year?

I recorded this strange old movie last week, called Portrait of Jenny, and I watched it tonight. Strange and sad and beautiful, and full of that quasi-twilight zone music that they used long ago when they dealt with any themes of time and consciousness. I enjoyed the movie, especially since I recognized my favorite statue of the Madonna in the Cloisters in NYC in one of the scenes. I hadn’t even noticed they were in the Cloisters until I saw that statue. So observant. Or maybe it’s just that I’ve never seen it in black and white before. It’s a good movie, and I recommend it.

Heidi, Cynthia, and I committed diner adultery today and tried out Heavenly Hash instead of going to our usual standby, The Post House. The ambience was MUCH better, which isn’t surprising, since the Post House has as much ambience as my Granny’s basement. The food was also a bit better, and it was CHEAPER.  Then we went to the Marshallville Meat Packing place and looked at lots of meat. They had cow hearts in one of the displays. HUGE, big hearts, and wouldn’t THAT be a twisted picture to put on a Valentine? (Can you tell I haven’t talked enough today?) They have the world’s greatest beef jerky, though, so I can face the offal quite serenely.

I’ve also come to the sad realization that I am NOT as smart as I like to think I am. Chad got me a "fiendish" Sudoku book for Christmas, and I’ve only solved around 40% of them. If I can’t get one, I just skip to the next one. I’m on number 118. I’ve solved 48. That is really dismal.

Since I’ve spent most of the day holed up on the couch, I was able to finish a book, Miles From Nowhere, an account of a bicycle-around-the-world trip. The author, Barbara Savage, and her husband spent two years in the late 70s riding over 18,000 all over the world. It was really inspiring, and then I read on the back that she was killed in a cycling accident as the book was going to press. That is really sobering. In all the photos, neither of them is wearing a helmet. I think it was before that became a normal thing for cyclists. She died from head injuries, and I wonder, if she had been wearing a helmet, would she be alive today? I love my bike helmet, even though it makes me look like a dork. I would look like an even bigger dork with my head in pieces, ya know?

Ok. I think I’ve said enough. Maybe. I do have more in me, but I’m trying to restrain myself. You don’t need to know about the hairball that Ada managed to hack onto TWO of my favorite wool, dry-clean only blankets, or that Myles has some killer gas tonight, or that my first selfish, selfish and selfish thought when I saw footage of the tornadoes in the south and an overturned UPS truck was, "Oh, I hope my stampin up order wasn’t in that truck!" I know. I’m such a selfish, selfish, selfish dork. Forgive me, it’s been that kind of day.

I’m going away now. I promise.