I am happy to report that Saturday's car wash fund-raiser for work was a success! It was a hot and muggy day, and we got some rain. But cars still came through, and we made money for our youth programs and clubs. Hooray!
I was wiped for the rest of the day--washing cars is good exercise! Needlss to say, I didn't go out at all on a Saturday night.
We had heavy rain and tornado warnings Saturday night, and when I woke up on Sunday the seasons had changed: clear air, 75 degrees Fahrenheit, crisp sunlight. This is a weclomed change!
Had friends over for the Bollywood Dance Workout, which we're going to make a Sunday ritual. The 50-minute workout seemed less daunting this time around, and the day was too perfect to stay too long indoors. We took a mile-long walk as well!
Dance-workouts are nothing if not mood-boosting. I spent the day making mix CDs (what's an iPod?) for the commute to work, and dove back into a biography of Pablo Neruda I began a month ago, but put down to read other things. I'm tearing through it now, and getting lost in Neruda's vivid, evocative language.
In the name of flex-time, I took today off in exchange for Saturday. Another lovely day, weather-wise. Considered driving to one of the trails I love to walk on, but opted to walk around my hometown instead.
Passed the chuch at the end of my street. I spent hours biking around its parking lot as a kid--it seemed a lot bigger then. I also climbed a dogwood in this lot regularly; it's gone now, and I'm not even sure when that happened.
From when I was 5 till I was 18, I was lucky enough to live two blocks away from my town's track. I can't imagine growing up without the mythology about these bleachers: from the very top, you can see the Manhattan skyline on a clear night.
It's uncanny, though not unpleasant, to be home after so much time away. In the eight years since my 18th birthday, I believe I have had 13 separate addresses--three of them in South Africa. There were times when home felt impossibly far away, or only real in memories. But I've returned, and found some things are still around:
I can't begin to count how many loops I've made on this track; during endless childhood summers, and neuortic high school years, and now, whatever post-Bohemian phase this is for me.
Right now, autumn weather feels new; but it's not, it's just been away a long time.