Monday, March 16, 2009

Sees in Seasons

Again, the season has started to change. I've been wishing this winter would end, and drag a few things away with it. I was thinking today about attic fans, and how ever since I was little, they have been a symbol of summer. When my parents didn't want to run the air conditioner, they turned on the attic fan. And at night, I listened to it fluttering and banging as I drifted to sleep. Now when I turn one on, the loud rush of sucking air as the metal louvers blow open takes me back to that top bunk on Hightower.

Sunday, March 15, 2009

I saved for nine months...

You don't know
and maybe you never will
that the real motive I had for planning that trip
was in vain

Wednesday, March 11, 2009


The night moon travels with a star.

The morning moon has come so far.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Driving North

Our physics teacher was always talking mostly about things to do with outer space. Which was fine with me because I would much rather talk about that than physics. It might also be why I got a C in that class. One day he told us that if we were to drive way north on 65 that night, we might see the Aurora Borealis. He said it would look like red streaks in the sky. So at about 11:30, we got in my car and headed north because, why not? We drove and drove, searching the whole black sky for any tinge of red, but we never saw any sign of it. Finally we gave up and decided to head back to the dorm, and by that time, were both so tired we could barely drive, so of course you drove because I am not to be trusted behind the wheel with sleepy eyes. At least we tried.

Friday, March 6, 2009

Big 'Fraid

Grasshoppers, Crickets, Walking Sticks, Wasps, Snakes.
All existed creepily on the farm. Being small and scared of these, we were terrified when Grandma threatened to lock us in the cellar (crickets-everywhere). Why do i have a memory of jars of grasshoppers on their back porch? That has to be wrong. We weren't even safe on the front porch (walking sticks). Or in the yard (snakes). When Susan and I found ourselves suddenly locked in the smokehouse (wasps) after the door blew shut, I wasn't immediately scared, but she was. Right away she was crying and yelling, and the panic permeated my pores and overcame me. It filled my lungs. Blindly yelling and banging the door with our fists, scrambling for a screw driver to pry it open. I wish we had a video of that. Syringes of absent-minded fear still manage to find their way into my veins and release bubbles of air into my blood, headed toward my heart, my brain. And I panic. Even though I'm only about ten steps from home. Still, I'm locked up!