If I live to see the seven wonders
I'll make a path to the rainbow's end
I'll never live to match the beauty again--
I know I hinted last post, but the ultrasound on Friday confirmed it; I've got something growing in me. MRI scheduled for sometime this week. I get my bloodwork and ultrasound results back Tuesday, when I follow up with the flight surgeon. It's not going to kill me, but it is rather annoying. I'll, uh, try to keep y'all posted, I guess.
Slipped out of town twice this weekend, listened to a lot of Fleetwood Mac and got downright intoxicated on getting to know someone new. I work with a lot of brilliant people, but sometimes somebody comes along that more than clicks, and it is a most welcome intrusion. I forgot what it was like to feel all restless in your legs and twitchy in your lips. To look at someone, and know, and be bothered and not bothered all at once. Distracting as all hell, is what. And the sauce of life.
Drove up into the mountains today, towering sheets of thick rock, clouds that look like more snow in the sky framing snow below. It wasn't planned. Every time Ellen took a switchback, I couldn't help but exclaim. We drove past cascades, close enough that my arm was misted in cold spray. There were rivers, and lakes, and trees, greener than green and taller than tall. The air was sweet and whole. Kids were playing on mounds of dirty snow, and a girl trudged past me in shorts, lugging a snowboard. I felt clean up there, and ready.
at a certain time, a certain place
you touched my hand
and you smiled--
this next week will probably be just as weird as last week, and you all should know sometimes I think I'm crazy for this, but I still just wake up grateful. Grateful for sky and water and sound and a pumping heart that keeps me feeling all of it, keeps me awake, keeps me alive. As long as the road is there, I'm up for the journey.