Frontierland


It’s snowing outside.

Last week, it was 85F.

People, myself included, are scurrying about and covering the early Spring buds in an effort to protect them from the sudden change in weather. I suspect that I was not intended for this type of work. While I did surprisingly thrill to the feel of mulch between my frozen fingers, the “ick” factor quickly followed. It took two days – and the trimming of all my nails down to the nub – to get rid of the dirt. Does my soil aversion reflect a lack of connection to Mother Earth and her Grand Springtime birthing? I ponder this with irony… And I conclude that, no, it just means that I don’t like getting my hands dirty.

This month, I am having a Big Adventure. I have approximately 30 days or so (I haven’t counted) during which I answer to almost no one and follow almost no schedule. Travelocity would probably plug this opportunity as one in which I may enjoy the leisure of a spa-like retreat, indulging in an almost decadent splurge of favorite foods, favorite movies, favorite books, hot showers, blanket-hogging, and general self, er, indulgence. I think, though, that I prefer the view of snowflakes out my window and the quiet white noise of the air purifier behind me. I must prefer this; it is what I chose to do.

It goes without saying that favorite books or new-to-me movies will fall after twilight. Probably with chocolate, too.  I will most certainly be watching the replay of today’s Opening MLB Day game in Tokyo. It’s on at 10pm, MLB Network, HD Channel 789. I imagine that a knuckle-ball looks a lot like a snowflake coming into you in the batter’s box….

Right now, as I look at the snow, it seems to fall in different directions. The snow nearest me slants to the right, while the snow over the yard heads a bit to the left, with increasingly more of a kamakazi type downward motion. It’s a lot like sitting in a snow globe, I imagine. My thoughts are like these snowflakes. They drift from one subject to the next, back and forth, floating between people, concepts, places, theology, and finally settling softly on the ground, to be stirred up again by breezes or footsteps. If I catch one, it will dissolve into my warmer skin. If I let it sift through air, it will still dissolve into me, but much more slowly, allowing the self-indulgent opportunity of self-absorbed reflection. Well, I’m not going back out into that mush, so self-absorption it is, apparently. Funny how our decisions to not do one thing turn into decisions to do other things.

Right now, as I have no accountability to anyone but my snowflake self, I will drift into the kitchen. I’m hungry.

big papi 1dmk2n, 300mm f/4L, w/2.0x TC white s...

big papi 1dmk2n, 300mm f/4L, w/2.0x TC white sox vs. red sox 2006 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

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About Shannon Blue Christensen

Storyteller. Author. Editor. Literary Critic. Director. Teacher. Knitter. nascent Musician. Student. Operations and Quality. Marketing. Historian. Lear's Fool. View all posts by Shannon Blue Christensen

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