April 19th, 2007


Weather Trivia

Weatherdude emailed me a NWS piece of weather trivia about the past couple of weeks. We are pretty much on record for the coldest couple of weeks in April, ever. 1907 beat out 2007 in DC, but not in Baltimore. (Must be where they keep the instruments.) And January was warmer than the past couple of weeks, as if most of us hadn't realized that. So screwed up is the weather, winter was warmer than spring.

At least, I think I have all that correct.

On the precip front, the past couple of weeks have been among the top ten rainiest for those weeks in April. I had been thinking the weather was far more like March than April. No wonder the peepers are happy. But...that said, I'm quite happy it's been rainy. Because we were already down for the year and now we should be pretty well caught up. Dry springs are not a good thing. Frost this late is rough, but is well within the norm. Trees were blooming on top of each other, but the redbuds, apples and crabapples have held off. Spring is said to be returning by this weekend.

It actually made it easier to get the last week of tax returns finished.

Off to write. Ideas and snippets from last year have been rattling around in my brain. Where did I put those journal notebooks???

Frog Out

Oh yes, and. I've developed a headache from trying to catch up on my f-list and read up on the stupid SFWA flamewar created by the exiting VP who isn't even willing to be on the internet and has others posting his emails. Not to mention being ticked by his sanctimonious statement that he harvests his trees and burns them for fuel, as if he were the only person doing that and this activity somehow justifies his lack of time to be connected to the rest of the world (he's the VP, for crissake). Some of us can harvest trees and blog too. And refrain from being techno-phobes, no less.

I Should Be At The Gym

" I was Helen's last wife. I used to stare at her as a child, this beautiful, vibrant woman with a generous mouth that always seemed to be laughing. She kept her hair long, which wasn't the style in vogue, and it always escaped and fell about her face in bits and pieces she pushed back behind her ears. She was physical. She loved working with tools; repairing the ship, modifying apartments, even creating sculptures that seemed about to move. She was restless energy. At every dance, she was in the middle of the bodies, barefoot, colorful skirts swinging as she stomped out steps, tossing her hair back out of her eyes, until her shirt was wet with sweat and her face glowed.

"I fell in love with her when I was three, the first time she grabbed my hands and tried to teach me the steps to a line dance. It was a kaleidoscope of color and sensation; her swirling skirt made of scraps of colorful fabric, her browned bare feet and arms going around and around, her smile and the big, smacking kiss she planted on my mouth when the music finally stopped. A hug and she moved off to dance with her wife. I stood there watching her, the music pounding in my chest, until an adult pulled me off the dance floor to keep me from being trampled by big bodies laughing and swinging madly about to the screaming noise they called dance music. "

very pleased, Frog said to herself. now, off to the gym we go.

Update: Oddly enough, the gym did not lift my spirits today. The blah mood went away while I was working out, but it resurfaced in the car on the ride home. Normally the gym trip solves it. Of course, I skimped on my weights after 12 days off. That could be it. Or it could be exhaustion, PMS, or not writing. I just wish it weren't so pervasive.