Sunday, April 11, 2010

pretty much doesn't get any better

If you do not read other Raleigh-area blogs or news sites or weather URLs, then you couldn't possibly know this: IT WAS FREAKING PERFECT WEATHER THIS WEEKEND. Blue-bloo Carolina bleu skies, not a smidge of cloud cover, a very light breeze, and no bugs.

No really, no BUGS!! By which of course I mean no flies/mosquitos/yellowjackets/SPIDERS, because other critters normally associated with bugdom like the inchworms/gnats/carpenter bees are out in full force, but they don't ATTACK me, so I don't make no nevermind about 'em.

Can it get any better? I submit that it cannot, and so made the most possible (I hope) of those 2 days by living it up hiking, cleaning, getting used to life without a dryer, taking in a new exhibit at the natural history museum, and cooking strange new wonderful things. Like, right now the house (once again) smells like garlic and onions in the most satuee-licious possible way. Not to brag on my kitchen skills, because anyone can fry up some sulfurous veg, but dang - he yum is strong on this Spring day.

And speaking of Spring - pollen this year = hellacious mess. The most avowed 'no alleriges please' among us are suffering, and the susceptible are hollering mad at the 3X normal pollen counts that might just keep them pinned up inside on this most gorgeous of Spring weekends. I feel for those folks while I take a Zyrtec and stuff a pack of tissues into my almost-too-small purse, because for 2 days last week I was amongst the sniffling/sneezing/watery eyes crowd and refuse now to give Nature any more of my precious days in observance of the misery that accompanies the yearly mating ritual of all things herbacious and plantacious. Pollen can take a big bite of my white behind, because a little phlegm production will not stand between me and the chance to hike the Secret Creek Trail at Durant Park, oh no.

The LOML, though, doesn't seem so sure. After getting hammered by the change in pressure that accompanies plane rides, his ears are complaining bitterly about anything and everything, to the point that he can't hear much of anything else but their whinging caca-phony. I'd just bet that he'd be glad to hide isnide until this whole Spring thing passes, if only the siren call of perfect weather and the chance to play Ultimate could be denied. But no, they cannot, and thus exposure to all things plant-sensual is a must, Mucinex take the hindermost.


Went to a book reading Friday night at the ex's studio. He's hooked into the local arts scene, and a friend of his is even more plugged in. So, 5 local authors did a reading of their work Friday night under the spread of an ancient tree and the unfortunate accompaniment of traffic zipping by on N Main. The background noise seemed to bother nobody but me, more to their credit. I am a victim of hyperreactive earways disease - any little aberrant sound sets me off and so the traffic noise was about all I could hear for the two authors I heard.

So, I walked home. Left the Things at the studio (their 3rd home, I think) with the admonition to watch traffic coming home. It's 3 blocks between here and there, so I wasn't too worried about their ability to make it home. They do it all the time in the daylight as the local grab-n-go it right next door to the studio.

Still didn't stop me from being relieved when they walked in the door a while later. Thank goodness they remembered to call me before they left the party so that I could obsessively time their trip home. Which, being the little hipsters that they are, happened in about half the time it normally takes, as it seems the complete and utter dark of a well-light urban nighttime makes young men RUN ALL THE WAY HOME.

Not that I'm complaining, mind you. They might be giant teens on the outside, but they're still wee little boys in my heart. To have them roaming about, on their own, is a terrific challenge for this admittedly overprotective mama bear. Heaven help us all when college rolls around. Someone's going to have to be handy with the Ativan. Or bourbon.

It's a small matter of a mere three years now, and I'm still so VERY not ready.


Hope y'all are having a grand old time. I'mma go finish the pasta sauce and see about maybe doing the taxes. No pressure though, there's still like 3 days left, right?

Tiff out.

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