that's mrs. mediocrity to you

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growing over

the broken places,

with the emphasis

on growth

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a mistake of a photo

malfunctioning focus

so exactly

spot on.

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I’m not making this face quite yet, this bored, grumpy, is it summer yet? face, but I will be, soon.

My naughty kitten has a very restless heart, and this frigid cold is putting a serious crimp in his style. And by style I mean hunting, mouse exterminating, pest control. He sleeps inside every night, but by day he prowls our property (and beyond) for mice and moles and chipmunks (his favorite), with the occasional bird thrown in to show me who’s boss.

But for the past few days it has been so incredibly cold that he has stayed inside, pouting, causing trouble, getting into mischief. Keeping me up at night with his antics. Normally, after a day in the field, he comes in and passes out and we don’t hear from him until morning. But he has been sleeping most of the day, and so, at night, he is wide awake and looking for entertainment. Cat-style entertainment, you know, running over people’s heads, beating up the other kitties, pouncing on toys and pillows and anything else that can stand in as prey.

It’s kind of funny when it’s not highly annoying (which is around 1:00 in the morning). And it makes me think how much really does depend on the weather, though we like to think that somehow we are above all that, we like to think that we’ve evolved past caring about such trivialities, we like to think that the cocoons we’ve built for ourselves insulate us from what’s going on outside. And in some ways, of course, they do.

But even so, we can’t really ever escape the weather, or nature. Time cycles and seasons shift and we take the sunshine for granted until we are hit by a storm, or extreme cold or too much heat. Floods and droughts and cyclones and tornadoes are the stuff of news, and we forget the power of Mother Nature’s fury on those days when she is smiling down on us.

I don’t think it’s trivial when people talk about the weather. I think it’s human nature. I think it’s a throwback to the times when we lived out in the elements, when paying attention to the weather was a matter of survival. A time that, in the grand scheme of things, really wasn’t so long ago.

But I’m still going to be making this same face for a while before Spring arrives. For me, February is always the longest month. I have tried both fighting it and embracing it, but I think this year, I’m just going to accept it, and wear that expression with pride.

If naughty kitten can do it, so can I.

Last night, despite single-digit temperatures, I went out to dinner with my mom, sister and niece. My body balked at the notion of going anywhere in this cold, but I forced my inner hermit into silence and got dressed to go all the same. And we had a great time, just catching up and laughing and being silly.

Silly is good.

I find myself, especially at this time of year, living by rote, filling my days with habits and patterns and same-old same-old, and it’s nice to veer off the beaten path and walk through a field, cut through an alley, wander aimlessly. I don’t do that often enough.

Lately, I’ve barely had time to write in the mornings, and I am missing that particular habit, one that’s surely worth keeping. My days have felt slightly off, rushed, harried, and it’s taken me this long to figure out why. I’m out of my groove.

But life is funny like that, it doesn’t really allow you to stay in any one rut for very long, things are always changing, shifting, moving. Even when you try to hold your place, you can feel the earth tilting beneath you, forcing you to change your stance just to remain upright.

But change is also good; in some ways, it’s what keeps us going.

I cut all my hair off. (Or rather, I had a professional do it). I’m leaving the house more often, to spend time with the people I love. I’m reading books like they are food. Or air. Or both. I’m organizing.

I look in the mirror and hardly recognize myself.

Except this morning I got up and smiled at the outrageous case of bedhead I’d acquired during the night, looking as if I’d spent the night spinning on my head like a top. (Truly, it’s my superpower).

Ah yes, there I am.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

My inner hermit takes great comfort in that.

A good word to describe what I’m feeling just now as I navigate my way through a medical system that seems to work in all ways backward.

Frosted as in, “That really frosts my cookies.”

Which is a phrase that makes me laugh, and I have no idea what it really means, but the fact that it makes me laugh is enough.

For now.

Because if I don’t laugh, I’m going to cry. Or yell.

Now, who wants a cookie?

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a photo from last autumn because i’m

a bit under the weather just now

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and i’d rather be under this tree

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