Puddle Jumping

puddlesmile
Mood: Bluesy
Drinking: Weak Tea

It’s rainy out west.

Rainy and cold. (Although according to the family in Illinois, it’s -17 degrees Fahrenheit, so I guess “cold” here is a relative term.) We have no shortage of mud puddles. No shortage of just plain old mud, either. I got plenty on my shoes this morning when the LeeLoo and I went for a run at Land’s End. (Yes, I’m still running. The bug doesn’t really let go after 13.1 miles, it seems. It just bites harder.)

There were a few brief minutes of sunshine this morning before the rain came down again, and we made sure to take advantage so we could spend the rest of the day lolling on the couch (Loo) and munching greasy popcorn at a Juno matinee (me).

Now it’s dark outside and the rain’s beating a wild rhythm on the windows. I’ve got a fire on and an itch in my fingers and I feel all out of practice writing anything interesting.

But there’s hope! I’m off to a big fancy writing conference this week, so I should be back in tip top word shape in no time at all.

I’m looking forward to it. For the past few months it’s been all running, all the time, and I’m ready to mix up the body action with some brain action and get the whole thing chugging along like some proverbial well-oiled machine.

I’ve noticed that’s what happens when you start to get some part of yourself in shape. Now that I’m well on my way to bulging — or at least slightly shapely — calf muscles, I’ve noticed that the noodley-lookin’ arms could use some attention. So I’m putting those cute little blue free weights that Boy bought me to work, finally. Bulging (or at least slightly shapely) biceps, here I come.

All this toning is addictive. First the legs, now the arms. Who knows what’s next! But the brain wants some attention, too. Hence the conference with all the books and the learning…

The rain drops are fading away now. Or at least blowing in a different, less audible direction. I like falling asleep to the splishing, splashing sound of it. Always have.

Tonight is rather melancholy, though. Boy’s at work. Loo’s crashed out on the couch, still. And I’m here at the table, tapping away, nothing much to say.

It’s nice to be slightly at a loss, though. All last year, if I had a moment like this, I pulled out my endless to-do list and got right to work.

There was no time to dawdle with directionless puddle-musing. I had a book to publish, a party to plan, a trip to take, and then books to sell and funds to raise and miles to run and a nephew to meet. 2007 was a lovely, astonishing, rewarding, incredible year, and it passed all too quickly.

But it was busy, too. So very busy. I’m ready to drag my feet a little.

Yes, 2008 has started with a race and a bang, but I’m determined to take it down a notch this year. To keep the list to just one page. To throw just one ball in the air at a time. To write about absolutely nothing important. To listen to the rain…

-Lo, who really should invest in some (cute) rubber wellies.

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