An Unusual Dream

Last night I dreamt about a world filled with birds. In this world, people watched birds for guidance. The birds were messengers, of a sort, or they were foreshadows, maybe. I remember reading about augurs years and years ago--these were people who watched the birds for signs, believing that they were demonstrating messages from the gods or hinting at fate, I'm not sure.

In my dream I was floating on the surface of a pond, watching a bird build a nest beneath a footbridge. I wasn't floating in the water; I was resting upon its surface and was completely dry. The bird looked like a long-tailed mourning dove. The nest it was building was also resting upon the surface of the water. Soon a second dove joined in. I found I wasn't alone on the surface of the water.

Later in my dream I met a blue and gold macaw. He was in a large, old fashioned parrot cage, and handwritten poems, all devotional verses to him, were hanging on strings inside, and were perferorated around the edges where he had pierced them with his beak. I took him out and he climbed up on my shoulder and started mumbling. I didn't understand him, but I also knew he was somebody else's guide, not mine.

In the third part of my dream I was in a courtyard surrounded by freestanding shelves, cabinets, and doors, positioned randomly among trees and shrubbery. The periphery was a dense wall of fog. Every door I opened revealed shelves of food rations. I knew there wouldn't be enough for everybody, so I announced to the invisible general public that I would voluntarily go without my share in the hopes that at least a few others might survive.

Adjustments

It's a strange year of this and that I'm having. A few months here, a few months there, a few months somewhere else.

I remember what drives me mad about living in a developed area. It's all of the cars. All of the all of the all of the cars. Radiating heat. Fumes. Bumped up against each other about as tightly as one could possibly fit them at high or low speeds without actually touching each other. Long traffic lights. Cars backed up for long distances. Silver cars, white cars, black cars, green cars, cars of all color, age, size, style, weight. It's a car culture.

Oh, do I miss the bicycle-happy streets of Corvallis and the foot-filled streets of Montpelier. It's funny, though, or tragic, because it's mostly in these unbearable CAR situations that I remember how important it is NOT to drive. Nothing makes me long for my bicycle more intensely than a really disgusting traffic jam.

If there's one silver lining -- no, no, no, make that a GRAY lining -- to the absurd intersection homing between me and my mule, and the heat, and the congestion, and the longer-commute-than-I'm-used-to, it's that my vegetable oil fuel tank is more useful here than it was in Oregon. In Oregon Muley was just a few miles away, and by the time my car was warm enough to ask for veggie oil, I was already there. That drive was short, but the highway was too exciting for me to bicycle.

The commute here will be WONDERFUL on a bicycle, as long as I can acquire a high-visibility body suit complete with a high-visibility protective bubble. I mean, the traffic is fantastic. Actually, I think it's just completely normal traffic---for the east coast. But having been gone for a little while, oh, oh, oh, it's enough to make me want to scream.

But once I get past the traffic and into the country (three miles out) the ride will be absolutely magnificent. I haven't biked it yet because the long drive here from Oregon landed me rather harshly on antibiotics and so I'm not only temporarily photosynsitive, I'm also, amazingly, ligament-sensitive. This particular antibioitic is not only anti-infection, but anti-exercise, too. Only a few more days and I'm free, thank goodness, to zoom my dear Trekkie bike all over Davidson county. Davidson? I don't even know where I am.

I'm going to post on ad on Craigslist for vegetable oil -- once I get my bike tires pumped and my BenZy tank full of oil, I'll really be ready to crank. Eat my french fry fumes, you traffic jams! Watch me spin by on my pedals! Watch me pass you all, bwa hahahaha!!!!!

You know what I REALLY want... a little trailer so I can haul the groceries home. Yesterday I walked from my grandparents' house to Tractor Supply Company to look at some equine products. Well, Yellow and Papa Joe thought I was a little crazy for even making an attempt. TSC can't be more than a mile and a half away -- but it was mid-day and HOT as the devil's britches -- well, I got up to the Mack Hatcher and Columbia junction and I'll be darned if there wasn't even a cross walk. Well heck. I had heat exhaustion AND I had to navigate a (how-many-lane?) wiiide intersection, too? Well, I made it without getting struck down. And I made it home, too.

Tomorrow I am taking my grandparents to the Franklin Farmers Market so we can get some eggs and asparagus and exercise and lettuce and everything else that is wonderful and fresh.

Just in Time....

Well, we got to Nashville, TN, just in time to get stranded. We're safe in a hotel, but all of the surrounding roads seem to be blocked by police, floods, or both. Our hotel room is leaking water on the side, but at least we have electricity and free wireless internet! Andy's flight rescheduled for tomorrrow, as the airport is completely inaccessible.

On the Road Again

With the saddest glances behind...

Honeychild Cleared

The vet came out today to examine Honeychild. Since Honeychild is, yes, "livestock," she has to have a 30-day Health Certificate to travel between states. After some prodding, listening, and looking, the vet nodded his head and declared her fit for transport.

Honeychild is, in fact, happier than I think I've ever seen her. She is so excited about spring. She also seems better behaved than ever -- I think she's trying to be especially good for fear I'll leave again.

Because I've had more free time this month than I've ever had in Oregon, I've gotten to spend more leisure time with Honeychild. I give her a good thorough brushing every morning before letting her out into her field, where she promptly drops to her knees and rolls in the biggest patch of mud she can find. She's shedding out nicely and her dapples are already putting on their summer shine.

Yesterday Andy and I saw a bald eagle soaring over her paddock when we pulled up. Today I didn't see the eagle, but I saw three red-tailed hawks circling instead. I also saw a slug that was at least six inches long.

The vet asked if Honeychild and I were planning on riding to Tennessee. "No," I said, "we're going by diesel engine. But if we decide to come back, we'll ride."

Coffee, Norton, and Me

I've been back in Corvallis for about 48 hours, and I've spent at least 40 or 42 of those hours clinging to my space heater. Despite my efforts at integrating my body into the space heater, and despite my long johns, scarf, and sixteen cups of tea, I've still come down with a cold.

I went to the grocery store today and bought a box of tissues and gallon of corn oil. Tissues for me, corn oil for Muley. Muley lost a little weight while I was gone. Poor dear. As much as I'd like to believe she lost her appetite because of my absence, I think it's actually the green grass's fault. I believe she is so smitten with the fresh green grass, as limited as her access to it is, that she feels the need to demonstrate her preferences by snubbing her hay.

****

This morning I took a walk across campus. The green grass was so green and the air was so fresh, I found myself laughing aloud. I was wearing my pink rain boots and several blocks from home I surprised myself by jumping up and down in a puddle. I really hadn't planned it -- I was just walking past a puddle, and then next thing I knew, I was jumping in it. I laughed some more and waved my yellow dinosaur umbrella around for good measure. Then I pulled myself together and continued on my way home.

But not before I noticed the rhododendrons. The air is so fresh today -- every day -- that I could smell the wet rhododendron blossoms when I walked past them. I think I must have gotten used to the city air in Chiayi, because this morning I felt so satisfied taking huge gulps of air. It tasted so clean and healthy that I felt extremely happy.

More than the air was making me happy, though. I was walking across campus because I had just been to the library. I was in the library because I wanted to check out the Norton Anthology of Postmodern Poetry. While I was in the library I also chanced across a magnificent collection of Chinese poems put together by Kenneth Rexroth, and I had just spent ten or fifteen minutes reading these poems aloud to a captive audience.

I hadn't originally planned on going to the library when I left home early this morning. When I left home I went to the Beanery and read the Norton Anthology of Modern Poetry with half a cup of coffee and half a scone. The introduction was so exciting and fascinating and illuminating that I felt I immediately needed to secure the postmodern edition of the anthology, as well. And so I bundled myself off to the library.

I hadn't really planned on going to the Beanery, either. When I first left the house I went onto campus to use a computer. The Beanery visit was a side-effect of my jet-lag. I woke up at 5:45 this morning and felt ready to start my day. Instead, I spent forty-five minutes enjoying the rising light from my pillow. When I finally parted from my blankets and stepped into the day, I wasn't planning on the Beanery or Norton or the library or puddle-jumping. They were the effect of spring, perhaps.

I think I've found a new favorite recreation in coffee and the Norton Anthology, though.

I visited Muley after dropping off the heaviest of my library books at home. After a thorough grooming, I turned her out on the green grass and read Tu Fu to her while she grazed. I don't think she paid much attention. But that's spring for you.

Happy Rainbow Birthday!

What is in the box, Joe?





A cake??? With an apple on it??? It must be for me!





And I am 42 years old today, that's right! It's funny, how Joe turned 24 last month, and I'm turning 42 this month...





We are so happy and we are so excited to cut the cake open. Because what is inside? Can you guess?





Taro pudding is inside! And vanilla pudding!!! And isn't it the best cake you've ever tasted? Yes, that's right, with coconut trim and dark chocolate hiding in the apple outline -- this baby
is a reaaaaal cake.





And how do we feel after eating two slices each? Something like these people... Reaaallly full but we still want more...




HAPPY RAINBOW BIRTHDAY! HAPPY RAINBOW BIRTHDAY!!! 100% HAPPY! 100% HAPPY!!!