Spring

I must say, even though my last two posts have been not-exactly-uplifting, I'm uberhappy that it's spring. I love winter, but that time in between winter and spring can be described as follows: ICK, BLECH, UGH. Grey, muddy, slushy, brown. Late April to Early June is wonderful. Green, flowery, sunny, warm. And there are baby calves. Mmmm. It's like ice cream. I will myself not to think about the perils of summer, which are sure to come, as they never fail to do. No, I shall revel in the spring and enjoy gambolling on the farm, photographing the earth come to life.

I can never get GMH poems to copy in the right format, but here is what he has to say on Spring:

NOTHING is so beautiful as spring --
When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush;
Thrush's eggs look little low heavens, and thrush
Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring
The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing;
The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush
The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush
With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling.

What is all this juice and all this joy?
A strain of the earth's sweet being in the beginning
In Eden garden. -- Have, get, before it cloy,
Before it cloud, Christ, lord, and sour with sinning,
Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy,
Most, O maid's child, thy choice and worthy the winning.

Gerard Manley Hopkins

Pain.

Pain. I'm in so much pain. Do you know what I think? Pain does not make you stronger. It just makes you hurt. I don't really think that. Pain does make you stronger. I've got a pretty high pain threshold and it's probably because I am in pain everyday. If I was just sitting around minding my own business and then suddenly one day I was in this much pain, just out of the blue, you know, I think I would cry like a baby and rush myself to the emergency room. But I don't. I go to work and I go to youthgroup and I go home. I do things with my friends, I sign on for extra things at church, I go hiking. Nonetheless, I am certainly capable of recognizing this as an abnormal amount of pain. Normally, at this point in the posting, I would worry that I'm whining. I'm not worried about that. No. Because I feel like I've been run over by a truck and while I was trying to stand up, some thugs came and beat me and left me for dead and while I was lying there I started to come down with the flu. Everything is touching me. Chairs, doorknobs, counters... They're pushing on me. Why do they do that? It hurts! This does not mean that I do not want people to touch me. When I am sick, beaten, and have been run over, I think I want a hug. Or a back rub (gentle, please). Or a hand on my arm (palms are better than fingers, thanks). Do I ice or use heat? Both? If I've already taken four ibuprofen, can I take two Excedrin? The rheumatologist I want to see isn't taking new patients. Not convenient. This is the worst bout of pain I've had in memory and I will take this opportunity to rant about it. My apologies to those reading it, but for heaven's sake-- Enough is enough, already.

I probably need some icecream and a puppy. I think it's worth a try.

Some kind of unidentified feeling

Well, I'm just here to tell you (in case you hadn't noticed all by yourself) that I have nothing to say. I'm very boring. Nothing at all is going on my life. If there were anything to write about, my sister writes it first, and better. I'm in pain all the time, but even my sister is in worse pain more of the time. I can't even be miserable as well as she can. I'm just run-of-the-mill in pretty much every way imaginable. I'm short, I'm overweight, I have talents but they're nothing extraordinary. I'm a follower, a helper, a copy-cat. I know this entry sounds like I'm depressed, but I'm not. And I know that wasn't perfect grammar, but I don't care. The things I care about right now are people coming into my office uninvited, cute animal noses, sleeping, aching, babies, grilled cheese on sourdough, trees, weight, touch, and rain.
And now I have to go back to my aching, being sleepy, and doing my boring job.
This is not depression-- do not be confused. This is near-apathy plus frustration. That's all.
And by the way, it is not raining. It is snowing.