Before and After

It's a Wednesday afternoon off, and dark clouds drift East across my window. The line is above me now, the line of white and gray, and I'm anticipating the thunder. What are these clouds? I've been reading The Cloudspotter's Guide by Gavin Pretor-Pinney, but I haven't made it past Cumulus (because I'm also reading four other books). Cumulonimbus is Chapter 2, and they're the thunderstorm clouds. Did you know that "when it's mature, this cloud can be considerably taller than Mount Everest"? Not sure if that's what rolling in, but I would be happy if they were. You know how I love storms.

Otherwise, I'm at my desk with music (again! glorious!) and writing critiques. I'm proud to report that I have completely committed to working out every weekday morning and have done so consistently for nine weekdays now. My body is changing! It feels good. It would feel better if I would lay off the pastries from Starbucks. My diet is still suffering, so I need to work on my relationship with food. I'm so tempted to buy Women, Food and God by Geneen Roth because I told Erin to order two for the bookstore so that I could. (But new books are hardcovers and lots and lots of dollars, even with my discount.) I search for books to help me solve my problems. I write to help me solve my problems. Right now I'm working, mostly, on loneliness and making human connections. For this I'm reading Us by Lisa Oz. For this I'm also doing yoga. For this I'm also doing too much crying.

There has been an official shift here.

I am one of them now, or so my license plate (and driver's license) declare. I can no longer use my other-stateliness as an excuse for driving slow and switching lanes suddenly. I must admit, I haven't quite embraced this new residency, if only because I haven't had time to really consider what it means to live here and have relationships here.

With Saturday off (the first day in two weeks), I finally made it to the Spartanburg Farmers Market at the old train depot that morning. I come from a history of towns with overflowing Saturday markets: Hutchinson, Lawrence, City Market in Kansas City (unfortunately, I never made it to the Manhattan Farmers Market). Thus, I had high expectations, and, honestly, they weren't met. The people were lovely, both the shoppers and stand workers, but there were only about ten tables, some with only a dozen pieces of fruit on the table and others with bushels of peaches that intimidated me (because I would eat about two before they went bad). But instead of walking back to my car empty-handed, I spent ten minutes selecting three fresh zinnias for $1 and came home pleased with these:

The Farmers Market was my warm-up to my first hike. Corinne, Katherine, and I drove up Highways 11 and 276 to Caesars Head State Park. Starting out around 1pm, we hiked the Raven Falls Trail to the Gum Gap Trail and then down to a suspension bridge over Raven Creek Falls: beautiful, the sound of water and the dropping off. The hike was "easy to moderate" but rough at times, particularly on the way back, for its constant inclines. The trees and creek and friends and heat made for a wonderful first hike. On the suspension bridge, we were over the falls, which means we couldn't actually see the waterfall (which you'll see in the photos below), so I want to go back soon to hike down another trail to see the actual falls. I just wish there was more time because I want to see everything, and it's hard to see everything when you can get out to explore only one day every two weeks.

By the way, none of us were scared or freaked out by the bridge at all, even though it swayed. Fearless girls, we are.

Well, the clouds aren't so congestively dark as they were twenty minutes ago. It's a slow unfolding.

By the way, my first article appeared in the Spartanburg Herald-Journal on Sunday. It feels good to be in print again.

You know what else feels good? The possibility that Jedsen may come visit next week. I'm trying not to get too excited just in case it doesn't happen. But, really, the thought makes me too happy to say.