still life with ranunculus
Yesterday, I was grouchy, crabby, melancholy, in a funk.
I kind of felt like this:
So, I decided to take my own advice and run it out. I hadn’t been in a while and I figured that was probably the main cause of my problem.
On my way out the door, I looked again at the tall grasses in my garden that really, really, really need to be cut down… but I always put that off as long as possible because I hate doing it I always get a blister it is such a pain but I can’t clean anything else in my garden until I do that because if there is any wind at all it will just be another total mess and (pause for breath) okay. I went running.
Well, I tried, but my allergies are terrible right now so I couldn’t breathe and then I was grumpier grouchier and mad and frustrated but hey wait the sun it is shining it is 80 degrees 80! in April and I just passed this guy walking along the same trail as me and reading a book. Reading a book! while he walked (pause for breath).
And then I smiled.
I passed him on the way up and the way back, which meant he covered about two miles, book held up in front of him, paying no attention whatsoever to people passing him, the beautiful day, the sunshine. Paying no attention to anything at all, except his book.
And the sun was out and the frogs in the pond I was passing were peeping louder than the Counting Crows song I had playing in my ear. At first I thought it was part of the song I had never noticed. But then I stopped and turned the music off. And listened. It was frogs, peeping their little hearts out. And that made me smile, again.
So I went home and I tackled that grass, yes, tackled it, and there was cursing, and there was a blister and there was mud up to my ankles when I was done. And I was sweaty and the sun was shining and it was 80 degrees, 80! and all of a sudden, I felt like this:
Then I took a shower and I realized that for the first time since last October I was walking around the house barefoot, and I went outside and had a glass of wine in my garden. Aaahhhh.
And the moral of the story is:
Isn’t that the best word, ever?