JOURNAL: HAPPY BIRTHDAY NORTH DAKOTA FROM OUTER SPACE + A NOTE ABOUT ASPHALT

Today is my dear North Dakota's 125th Anniversary of statehood. In honor, you must listen to our state National Guard singing the state hymn:

Click here to listen to the North Dakota State Hymn

I'd had a meteor shower on the dance floor by this point so you don't get the effect of my asteroid.

 

Many thanks are due to Elise for her clever whit and Janna for her sewing my arms in and all the other many, many things my lovely housemates do for me.

DEAR NORTH DAKOTA,
Even dressed as Outer Space for Halloween I felt a tether from the center of my heart to the folds of your dark earth and strange, beautiful streets. The Sheyenne River twists around my ankles, my knees are made of blizzards, mosquitos buzz in my brain, my eyes are full of Canada geese, and on each shoulder are little hairy bison with their melting brown eyes. Thank heavens for thee.

ASPHALT,
Yesterday I went to a yoga class for the first time in forever and after an arm collapsingly glorious session, while lying on my back with my eyes closed I realized it has been just over ten years since my cross country coach died. I thought of his gruff old voice, his patience, and the miles of asphalt I ran at his command. May those miles never leave me.


My heart is full.

freckles on my forehead

This morning.
Rode Bicycle to a meeting place, we did yoga on the lawn. Uplifting. Learned new bits of yoga. Lotsa new bits. Lavender essential oil on my forehead. I could use more lavender in my life.
I could always use more outside in my life.


mid-day perfect text from bestie-J.


BICYCLE RIDE.
Forever. Left my house at quarter to six came home at quarter past eight.
I felt my soul grow.
Here is why:
I am getting better at riding with no hands. I'm up to four seconds.
Wonderful people.
We rode through farmland.
Stopped and watched cows eat.
Out of city confines.


Maybe we should address the always desire of mine to be out of doors. What is it that drives a body so? Some of the best of childhood was spent barefoot, ignoring mother's request to wash feet and brush hair, digging through the dirt for buried treasure, feeling the gloaming air descend as we raced around playing detectives. How do you get better than earth, plants growing, fresh air, and a bit of adventure and wildness? You can go any direction once you've stepped out your front door.


(back to 8:25p.m.) Walked in my back door, grabbed a jacket and was out my front door. We rode north debating eatings/not eatings/time crunch then settled on putting off dinner. For....

Mon Oncle, the little French Jacques Tati pretty, gets better every time. I never laugh less, I only laugh more for M. Hulot is a best friend. He socked that guy right in the jaw! Then everyone is back in the cafe/tavern for an accordianed evening. What silent commedy charm.


End conclusion of grrrrrreat outdoor day: cooking rice in a microwave is tricky.

yoga at the bakery

for the millionth time.

Wednesdays are fresh bread day. I pull apart the loaves and run them through the slicer. I love. They look, smell, and feel like life rejuvenated. Bread, to me, is the purpose of a bakery. Maybe even the purpose of life.
I remember being seven. Best friend and I. Mom pulls fresh homemade, dense, whole wheat bread out of the oven. Feeling so happy, we eat our thick slices slathered in butter in the fall cool sitting on the back stoop.
Tonight, we had everything in the bakery done by four and I'd grown tired of reading about the properties of flour so I started doing yoga again. Can you imagine it? Look! There's me, amidst the perpetual flour dustings and smell of glazed donut, in tree pose.

My balance is improving.