The Life and Times of the Plume

 1.  I just had a letter arrive by mail.  A real, gorgeous little letter and I just knew, as soon as I started reading it, that I’m going to have a beautiful pen pal relationship with this gal.  I am so lucky to have a handful of majestics when it comes to pen pals.

2.  The winter weather we’ve had blustering through the valley for a few days now has dissolved itself in the night.  The sky is still white, the air is cool, the wind is sharp but the snow seems finished.  I’ll miss it.  Two nights ago, I went running, and the snowflakes were falling so thick and plump that the entire front side of my body became plastered white as I cut through the wind and over Red Hill.  I love springtime weather.  The ups and downs of it.  The way everything must stand staunchly and not be moved by the gusts and sleet.  It’s the final test before the rewards of summer.  Last night I went running and it was surprisingly cold out.  My breath and that of the dogs formed white solid against the stars and moving over the ground felt miraculous.  Spring and fall are my favorite times of year to run, the temperatures are so brisk and refreshing to be out in and moving quickly through.  I have to run fast, to stay warm.  I pretend I’m crossing a mountain to get to my tiny cabin where a merry wood fire is waiting for me.  I pretend there are no roads.  I pretend I’m running to a neighboring tribe where a friendly wigwam is waiting for me and a feather decorated woman in deer skin is smudging sage.  That reminds me, I’m going to go pick sage this afternoon.  I’m excited to bundle it.

3.  I sometimes imagine the bodily electricity it takes for me to run.  The synaptic firing and catching of information, faster than all sonic everything.  My body is a glorious machine!  A perfect machine, even in its subtle failures and irregularities.  If I feel like blowing my mind, I sit back and imagine everything my body is doing at any given moment in time.  It’s an astounding and amazing thing to attempt to fathom.  I give myself the imaginary bends from diving too deep, too fast, and then rising into the wonder of it all.

4.  I wonder how doctors choose to focus on any one part or function of the human body?  If you were studying to be a doctor, what would you choose to focus on?  Mitochondria?  Ears?  Rough endoplasmic reticulum?  Leukocytes?  Mitochondria, I’ve always loved that word.  In grade four I wrote a short story for a contest.  I desperately wanted to use the word mitochondria in the telling because I had been reading about them in the encyclopedia and loved the way the word rolled off my tongue but also the function of mitochondria in living things was fascinating to me.  I constructed an entire story around the word and it was a very good story and I should have won that contest but I didn’t.  The judges may have thought the tale was too well written for my age category.  Or perhaps they didn’t know what a mitochondria was.

5.  The prettiest girl I have ever seen walked by the window I was seated beside while I was out for breakfast this morning.  She had on mauve tights, a long cobalt blue coat, and she had sea foam green hair.  I can’t remember what her face looked like, it was pale and seemed pinched by the cold of the wind, but I thought she was so beautiful, like a lost mermaid in the Rocky Mountains.  Do you ever have the urge to make best friends with perfect strangers based entirely on the colors they are wearing?  Oh.  I had that urge today.

6.  There were the sweet international students strolling on campus, mostly delicately Asian, with their cute little keychains dangling from their little backpacks.  They take such small steps when they walk.  I’m from the West.  When I walk my stride gobbles ground.  Do you ever marvel at how much space there is here?

7.  I was listening to a wonderful interview on NPR this afternoon featuring the 2012 Iditarod winner.   He seems so lovely, well spoken and passionate about Alaska, Alaskan huskies and Alaskan people.  Bless his heart.  I could have been a musher.  I could have been so many things.  How do we wind up where we are?  I could be a marathon runner and I suppose it’s not too late to start except I ran so many races in high school that I’m tired of the sound of pattering feet behind me, the waiting for the sound of the gun…too much regulation…now I like to run the wind into the ground and chase the mule deer through the sage brush.

8.  Potato delivery.  This is how Tater Tot arrived at The Gables.  In a Tater sack.  Naturally.

9.  I was just telling a friend recently that I used to like green very much but then I started liking blue and now blue is my favorite (also, dove grey, mustard, salmon, orange and magenta).  Not just any blue though.  I am drawn to cobalt and navy blue.  Dark bright blue and dark blue.  When I wear these shades of blue I feel like I look fresh and lovely, they feel so good to be in.  If I see cobalt when I’m out and about, I inhale sharply.  There’s just something about it.  My grandfather has piercing blue eyes.  He’s rather Norwegianish looking.  He is gorgeous in fisherman blue.  My eyes are a uniform, dark brown but I feel as good as he looks in blue when I wear blue.  I wonder if my preference for color will change throughout my life, like tastebuds?

10.  Tater dug a large hole in the lawn.  Rob has filled it with dirt and seeded it with new grass.  I can hardly wait for the baby grass to begin growing.  One of my favorite things to pet is fresh, baby grasses.