It’s been an odd couple weeks, but tonight I feel like writing. I came here and realized I have two half-finished blog posts, neither of which I liked very much. I’m going to pick up the parts I liked, drop them in here and see if I can blend them in with some other things I want to write about: Conversations
Moments in time
Tonight, I went out for a decent ride. I’ve been cooped up all winter, thanks to surgery for a torn rotator cuff, two actually, that I’ve apparently been nursing my entire adult life. That meant no biking and no doing much of anything for the better part of four months. I started running again in February to get ready for the Brew-to-Brew run from Kansas City to Lawrence (that was a load of fun!), but biking didn’t start again until the middle of March. Even then, it’s been a slow reintroduction.
The weather was nearly perfect. A slight wind from the northwest, a shining sun with storm clouds in the distance. I love the chaos in the Kansas sky. I love that it can be calm above you, yet you can see the trouble on the horizon. And I love that you have the feeling that you’ll be OK with either. The fields and pastures are green, there was water in the ditches, and the earth smelled rich on this side of winter.
Rides like this I wish I could freeze forever. I can take pictures, and I do, but it won’t have the wind blowing against your arms, fill your nostrils with fresh air, or produce the clarity that comes from moving under your own power.
Let’s talk about Lila
This could also go under moments, but it’s Lila. That means she gets her own section.
A friend of mine told me that it occurred to her that my blog had become sort of a scrapbook, or baby book, for Lila. I’m OK with that. It seems like a good way to record the things we do. Maybe years later, on some day when I don’t feel so great, I’ll go back and read some of these things and pep up a bit.
Tuesdays have become the day Lila and get together. And because I’ve learned that the more she does the less likely she is to remember that her mom isn’t around, I keep her busy. This week we went to feed the geese – Lila calls them ducks – at Carey Park. When it started raining, we moved to the library. If you haven’t taken your toddler to the library, you should. There’s a ton of stuff for them to do. And it’s fun.
I’m always fascinated by the things Lila does, the things she learns. But I’m also fascinated by the way she engages the world, people and animals. At this age, she just reacts to something. There’s not much she’s been taught at this point to fear or dislike. That means if there’s a duck, or a goose, and she wants to feed it, it’s going to get fed. Or at least she’ll try. And it’s seldom a problem – these quasi-domesticated animals have no problem with people. But when the geese had their fill, Lila was quite frustrated that they wouldn’t keep eating. So she chased them around, crackers in hand, trying to compel them.
I love these times with Lila. I loved them with my kids. It always makes me think of this song by Rush.
Also, here’s a hilarious video of Lila feeding a goose. That, ladies and gentlemen, is complete, unadulterated joy. No reservation about what someone might think or what the proper reaction should be. Because it is exactly the right reaction.
Dreams and omens
When my son was little, he’d run downstairs every morning to tell all about his dreams. They often included a lot of monsters and battles, and use by him of a shield and sword. I’ll admit that I wish I had paid more attention to them. I wish I had saved them somehow – recorded him talking about them, or written them down. There were some great stories in there, I’ll tell you.
One of the things that sucks about being an adult, I think, is that we stop seeing our dreams as an extension of life. We apply logic and knowledge and we see dreams as just something that happens. But kids, to kids those dreams are as real as life. Until they’re not. Same thing with some forms of intuition, and with our interaction with nature. I have always thought that any problem has its solution in nature. I suspect ancient man learned to build houses, hunt, and find edible plants by watching his environment. There’s a lot to be learned there, but I don’t think we pay much attention to it. And, like so much, we just walk past some of these miraculous things in the world as if they don’t exist, as if they have no meaning.
I have this story about a hawk that only a handful of people know. But it’s in that vein. My hawk story is very meaningful to me. And I wouldn’t have it if I hadn’t paid attention. It’s also why I bought this painting.
But I need to dream more, or remember them. I’ve not had many memorable dreams lately, and that makes me a little sad.
There’s more to be said, more to be written. But it’s not going to happen today. This is enough. The rest, I think, needs a little sorting out before it gets words.