Signs of Spring

Underneath a bare dusting of snow, the ultra dark tulips I planted two years ago have crested the ground.

The dogs want to stay out longer, even though it's not noticeably warmer.

When the sun is out (rare in the past couple of weeks), it seems progressively brighter and more direct. 7:00am is not pitch black.

Although surgery is new this year, big change in Spring isn't a new concept to me. It seems that once the calendar reaches Valentine's Day, there's a natural spring that releases a coil of weird energy into my life at about the same time. I theorize it's because, being born on November 20, that February 14 was my conception day. The thought of my parents doing the horizontal boogie on a romance holiday is, I admit, enough to make me hurl, but there it is. The calendar doesn't lie.

Sunday, like Sunday always is, is for tying up loose ends. Laundry for all the towels I've drooled on, the clothing I've drooled on, the sheets I've drooled on (whoa, a pattern, huh?); a visit from my niece who is in this section of Indiana for a change; the sorting and placement of trash for Monday night curbside placement (Charles, don't forget to pull this out to the curb!); the general straightening of the house so it doesn't look a vulgar mess. Sunday like Sunday should be.

I've been thinking today about the claim that there are no atheists in foxholes. I call myself an atheist, but honestly, I'm sure something more than randomness has made this world--I'm just not theistic or christian or any religious label. And I have not, and don't intend to pray about what is coming up. I've put my own faith in doing well and acting best whenever possible. But to do honor to my humanist side, I've also tried to be as normal as possible, given that what saves us, often enough, is a firm belief in self, a firm tether to reality, a firm desire for one's routine.

Scott has told me he'll post here when the surgery is done, and he's received word of what has happened and how successfully it's been perceived. I of course will be out for awhile. I don't know how long, but they tell me they want me up out of bed in a couple of days, so let's hope that means I'll be clear enough to engage in something as fun and satisfying as this one-way conversation.

Yes, I suppose I always admired monologuists and simply didn't acknowledge it. Selfish, I know. Menschlisches, allzu Menschliches!

Talk amongst yourselves--here, I'll give you a topic: the Holy Roman Empire was neither Holy nor Roman nor an Empire--discuss!