another sunday walk

We took a long one this time, not needing the fleeces wrapped around our waist. I was delighted when I found my observation notebook fit inside the pocket and wouldn't need a backpack (though it would have been nice for the water that we didn't bring), then didn't write anything, but instead took enough pictures to annoy K on several occasions. In my defense, I did try to take pictures on the move, but more often thwapped the camera against my forehead. Whichever dog I had strained at the leash as I paused to capture that bud, that track print, that shadow, the way the sun washed everything out.

It is such a beautiful day out today; it seems a shame to wait patiently as the photos upload, then on to taxes (I learned the art of procrastination from my mother, always a flurry with short seconds to spare). Everyone I know is done and shocked--they are due! Tuesday! Go, go, go! But I don't seem to have those stretches of time everyone else has... I wake well before the sun, arrive at my job at seven (well, that is when I am supposed to arrive anyway--not only a procrastinator, but often a late comer, which drives many nutty), teach until three, rehearsal until well after dinner, come home, reflect, go to sleep. I could cut out the reflection, but that seems the heart of my day, what I look forward to the most.

And today, the walk. I love the way the heat of the sun dried my sweat, how ridiculous it was t think of even wearing a fleece. I love that I could make it up that hill without surprised pain and how I craved fruit afterwards. My body is changing, becoming better. I have lost nearly six pounds in the past few weeks and though that is slow, I would rather that then keeping it or gaining it. Slow weight loss might mean it will stay off, rather than this lose five / gain seven routine I seem to have going. I know I have a long ways to go before I will be comfortable with my body again (was I ever anyway?) but the journey is good--sweat and good food, water clearing out my system, unclouded with the extras.

I told K of how part of me would rather get a job in town, be it teaching or not (not is just fine) because I want to get to know the town, become familiar. K's mother said some of that comes with having kids too, which makes sense. All of a sudden you need a social network, including caregivers, babysitters, teachers, and counselors to keep you buoyed while the baby grows. At the coffeeshop downtown where we had lunch, I saw a group of women knitting and talk together. I wonder if they accept new members, and I wonder if they mind that I am unfamiliar with more than knit, purl, bind off, cast on. Cables, if they are small, but no charts. A woman with a laptop wrote on a hightop, plugged in to headphones, shutting out the world except her words. Teenagers came in, sprawling, hot from a tourist's day in town with their parents. K read to me from a book of "shit happens" situations, pointing out in particular one story where a math teacher was trapped by his library of books for three days.

I am now waiting for a missing part of tax information, and this is especially the time when I have to remember to be calm, my new state of being. These numbers and confusing questions raise my blood pressure, make me want to walk away, and K turns me around and says, "Just get it done." But I can't find the right form and I don't want to screw up, get an audit, be blamed for being confused. I'm not sure who is claiming what, so many investments scattered, many of which I know little to nothing about. All I know is this: I wish they would just take out the amount from the start--why all this adjusting and balancing and nitpicking after? Why so many forms and jargon? Those days when my parents did taxes for me, when I was just a teenager working at a bookstore... lucky days.

And a photographic exploration of this afternoon:

Just before (love Libby's expression, soaking up fresh air):



Details:



Buildings:



Green and spring, coming:



Better than a stairmaster (and with a view):

(Zephyr is in this one too--dark against my pants!

Lunch downtown after: