I've been listening to "Famous Blue Raincoat" on loop

I found these photos from last year in a folder entitled, "sun storm." I never posted them apparantly, but finding them has made me so, so excited for the rest of the snow to melt. They reminded me of the smell of rain; the sound of singing frogs; the freedom of wearing less than four items of clothing at a time; the colour green.

And sun storms are the best thing. I can't wait.

Nothing is more exciting after 6-odd months of winter than the Great Melt. A new spring. A new crop. A fresh beginning. These photos are a reminder of lovely afternoons ahead.

Yesterday, I sighted my first butterfly of the year (Fire-Rim Tortoise Shell); a lonely honey bee, a magpie nest, the first Canada geese, and a raven. Eeeee! Such glorious signs of spring!

An interesting note concerning the raven: we've always had an old hawk up at the forest, but the raven seems to have chased him away along with every other bird, save for the occasional chickadee. He must like to croak and muse in privacy.

 

There are other spring developments, too. I've put my winter coat in storage. I've taken my bicycle, Charlotte, out of storage. I've dug out the running shorts and cycling gear. I've starting shaving my legs almost daily. I've started wearing capri pants. I've started wearing TOMS again.

Today is very windy, but also sunny. It's 6°. There's still a fair amount of snow on the ground, but another week or two of this sun, and it will soon be gone. For now, we wait.

sometimes, rap is really great

Womyn

Ladies! La-La-Ladies!
Ladies! La-La-Ladies!

Yo, bad business a hundred million--wait, wait:
Mike says this should be a song about women.
But then he said he don't know any women.
I told him, "Yo, I know, like, seven women!"

I know women, they like to go swimming;
They like to drink tea,
They like to think in the cool breeze
From the East on the beach, or the West.
Yo women? They the best.

A-yo, I think women really like diamonds.
Yo, I think they don't usually like violence.
They like to roll they eyes when I tell 'em I be rhyming--
Broken dreams yo, broken hymen.
I just want to burn a spliff and eat Thai, man!
When I holler at them, they say it's bad timing.

They smell great, I think about 'em real late,
They're better than steak, or high stakes
Poker. Yo women? They're loca.
They're sometimes Spanish.

When it's real late at the club they vanish
With dudes after I warm 'em up with great jokes.
They're the great hope, they're very dope;
Sometimes they like to smoke.
Sometimes, they drink drinks with the little umbrellas in 'em.
Sometimes, women is venom.

But sometimes women is like the best flower.
Yo women? Yo, they got the power!
Yo women? They like to take showers,
And when they let you take 'em with them it's really awesome.
Women used to watch Dawson's Creek,
And they used to watch 90210. They like to watch shows;
Some of them don't, they like to read prose.
Some of them like to date pros (that's professionals).
Other's don't,
They like to date, maybe, artists.

Some women are bad and some are harmless.
Women, you see, they got the harness,
And they can harness all this power that they garnish.
Women like to watch You've Got Mail with Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks.
Women, you're great, on behalf of men, "Thanks!"
I'm glad to be a part of your ranks--
If you accept me, women.

Heems

(My one piece of advice to you all, is to listen to more Heems. Like this.)

ipod today

Go steady with me
I know it turns you off when I
I get talking like a teen
Tegan & Sara

Don't you want to feel my bones, on your bones?
The Killers

And all the spilt milk, sex and weight
It all will fall, fall right into place 
Modest Mouse

You're always trying to keep it real
I'm in love with how you feel
The Moldy Peaches

Oh (she's the only one that makes me sad)
Slipknot

I've always been dark, with light
somewhere in the distance
City And Colour

in loving memory

Since the summer, we had been secretly awating the snow. We had plans for it.

We started in late December. We prepared with Internet research. We made huge mounds of snow which we left to harden. We took our time. It took us three days.

Cutting bricks out of the hardened snow mounds, we managed to build half of a wall. We tried to create a dome slant; we left each layer to harden overnight.

Then it got warm.

This post is in loving memory of our snow fort. K and I were sad to see it go, but you know what happens next? We get to start all over again!

And we will. I'll be sure to tell you all about it. Until then, happy winter!

sometimes, a children's book...

"It's not... happy. Well, it is, it's the happiest I've ever felt. But it's complicated."

- Professor Lupin, Harry Potter and the Prisonor of Azkaban

for old time's sake

[exerpt from Laura's journal, December 9, 2013]

The year is closing off. It's time to reflect on what's been accomplished. I:

Became a lifeguard and CSCTA certified coach at the end of the summer--simultaneously. Climbed a mountain (and drank tea at the top). Partisipated in a research project with the University of Alberta. Found two of the sexiest dresses ever concieved for a combined total of $50. Adventured into the wilderness and made camp by a waterfall. Blacked out on a bottle of whiskey. Learned how to bind books. Learned how to kiss. Memorized The Raven. Purchased a really nice road bike (her name is Charlotte). Strengthened old friendships; established new ones. Discovered lipstick (properly this time). Started playing the guitar more. Re-read 1984. Earned myself a hella fine tan. Went to numerous festivals (Chelsea always knows about these things, it's great). Saw Tegan & Sara live (it's always secretly flattering to be mistaken as Lizzie's girlfriend). Successfully built a loaf of bread from scratch more than once. Completed a sprint-length triathlon. Purchased real, girlish underwear (no more boxer briefs!) Went to New York. Successfully kept a super cool bloke around for a full year (I like him a LOT--he must like me, too!) Accidentally played "matchmaker" to a highly successful end (hello, Tara). Ran a 10km race in Banff alongside my mum. Got day drunk a lot. Horribly killed a home-grown butterfly by accident. Held a pheasant as it died (then paid to get it stuffed). Started wearing colours; started wearing my hair down.

So basically lots of things. Farewell, twenty-thirteen! Life is kind of brilliant, I have to face it.

a little wheat-love for you

After a handful of years that saw my field primarily taken up by the seedy, tangly, oily canola crops that yield me no joy, this year the farmer finally planted wheat. You have no idea how much this improved my quality of life over the summer. 

I love wheat.

I am brimmed with fond memories from my childhood when I would play in it for hours; chasing butterflies, nesting in little flattened coves, inventing games or simply running through it for the sake of running. All those glorious hours spent thinking and adventuring really connected me to it. I suppose, somewhere along the line, I directly connected a wheat field with happiness.

So then there was today. Being very windy while still comfortably sunny, I decided to go for a proper play before my schedule really fills up (it's already three quarters there) and the wheat is ripe enough to be harvested. The latter should be any day now.

Wearing a shirt I stole from the boy I love, and flanked by my dogs, I scampered into the wheat like my inner twelve-year-old demanded. I ran and ran and tripped and my TOMS filled with fallen grains. The wind blew my hair into my face. Ivy almost got lost in the height of the stalks, but hopped her way towards my voice. I sang a little. I breathed in the grassy, bready, earthy wheat-smell. I watched a distraught butterfly swirl around in the wind and get caught in a tangle of stalks. I bounded along with the doggies.

Eventually, I made myself a nest. I laid down and the dogs laid with me. I cuddled them and got wheat-heads and doggy tangled into my hair. I stared into the perfectly blue sky. I smiled. I thought about the simplicity of real happiness. I thought about the things that make wheat beautiful.

 I love the way it holds onto rain after a storm.
I love how dragonflies cling to the heads while they await their prey.
I love the rustling sound it makes when the wind blows it about.
I love the slow process from damp fresh green to tindery pale gold.

I love ducking into it and feeling hidden away from the rest of the world.
I love how it moves like the ocean on a windy day.
I love the way the heads slowly curl over like an old man’s spine as they ripen.
I love flattening out a little nest-cove for star-gazing or napping or cuddling.
I love running through it until I trip (it always catches my fall).
I love telling people that my legs are scratched up because I’ve been running through it.
I love the way it tickles my palms when I drag my hands across it like Maximus in Gladiator.
I love it when my dogs run through it and have to jump three feet to see above the stalks.

I love how it gets tangled into my hair when I lay in it.

I love finding frogs in it.

I love chewing on the grains until they turn into a doughy substance in my mouth. 

I love jumping over the haybales once it’s all been harvested.

 

I couldn't resist going home to fetch my camera in order to document my wheat-love, just for you. Whether or not you too have a wheat field at the back of your house, or have known the pleasure of experiencing one, I hope this made you love wheat a little. It's a lovely thing to love.