July 19, 2010, journal entry, Things that Make Me Wickedly Happy

Seven miles.

I am wickedly happy that I ran a comfortable and mostly pain-free SEVEN miles this morning. I almost can’t remember when I’ve run this far, and I also can’t remember how long it’s been since I considered seven miles to be “this far.”

During my daily morning runs through Hazel’s Creek where red-winged blackbirds perch atop wheat-like cattails, I kept my distance between four and five miles. The cooler temperatures and rain of June nearly tricked me into thinking that the Wheel of Seasons had sped forward to Autumn, hurrying past Summer, but I knew…and reminded myself…that soon, the sprinklers not needed in the rain-drenched Spring and early Summer would soon tick and click, rotating like the long black arms of my battery operated bedside clock. Now the temperatures, chasing Summer’s Sun, scamper into the upper 80’s and lower 90’s, and it is hot. I feel wickedly happy as I vow to not complain about Midsummer’s heat.

Things that Make Me Wickedly Happy

Oliver, the great blue heron, at Manito Park’s pond, stately and regal, fishing on stake-like legs.

Jack and AnnaBell, the bald eagles I have been watching and their eaglets, Page and Ella.

The fact that I am now drawn to anything eagle-ish, including tacky bald eagle stuff like gaudy license plate frames, brassy key chains found in highway gas stations, inspirational posters featuring soaring bald eagles, plastic wall clocks depicting the bald eagle with an American flag, and patriotic porch-ceiling-fan-light pulls. Luckily, up to this point, I have resisted the temptation, but I have given the Goddesses complete and ultimate vetoing power when I am tempted to purchase tacky bald eagle stuff like gaudy license plate frames, brassy key chains found in highway gas stations, inspirational posters featuring soaring bald eagles, plastic wall clocks depicting the bald eagle with an American flag, and patriotic porch-ceiling-fan-light pulls.

Purple duck feathers gathered from the edge of Manito's pond that I stuff in glass vases along with black crow feathers for my summertime tabletop bouquets.

Searching for the feathers of the great blue heron and bald eagles for my Cabinet of Wonders and glass vases.

Realizing that the robins’ eggshells of blue-tivity I have found and collected over the years are actually STARLINGS’ shells of blue-tivity. They are both the same pool-blue color, but the robin’s eggshell is just a tad bit larger than the starling’s. After all this time and I didn’t learn this until now. Suh-WEET!

Huge, fragrant bouquets wrapped in paper from the farmers’ market at wickedly low prices.

Contemplating the second tattoo I’m gonna get soon. I just need to decide what I want (the great blue heron? A tree? The leaf of an aspen tree? The bald eagle?) and where to put it.

Lounging blue-poolside once again in sundresses, reading my stacks of books as my boys splash and swim in bright water. “What strange power there is in clothing,” Isaac Bashevis Singer, I read as I begin my new-book-ritual, where I remove the book cover to inspect its binding, thumb through the pages, and absorb the new-text scent.

And the simply marvelous set of vintage bald eagle measuring cups I just purchased on an Ebay auction.

{Wickedly happy sigh.}









































GL, 7/19/2010. Prevail.