Feels Like Frío

The story here is that my left arm is likely done following orders for a bit. Also that I’m no longer stranded. Which is good news, because after a full 30 or so hours of letting things pile up (inside and outside) I was so very ready to make tracks.

First, some undesignated story time. I took one of two college credited courses in high school. One in Math and one in English. Back then, I favored Algebra the most but found the homework egregiously boring which led me to skip half the worksheets yet ace the tests. Honors English II was almost inverse. Not that I didn’t ace the class – the assignments were appropriately challenging and engaging. Algebra homework was mechanical, and I had PS3 to play. The other class was little more than an excuse to do what I do best: write long pieces of thoughtful contemplation for a captive audience!

The assignment I’m thinking of specifically is one that had us take a trip and recall the details, events and how it made us feel. Apparently, I missed the class memo of trips to the store being eligible. You see, I took the prompt literally, recounting a three-day weekend I took some weeks prior to my grandparents’ house in rural Northeast Missouri, where they live to this day. As usual with these papers there was no limit, just a minimum, so I could really let it breathe and turn this school essay into a story. I know there’s a copy lying around somewhere; who knows how many pages I ended up with.

To summarize oh-so-briefly: one day in the Spring I drove out to stay with my folks for a long weekend and rode my bike from one end of town to the other. Growing up there, I can tell you, Missouri is some BS on many fronts. However, as a Natural State, its beauty is on the shortlist. As noted, my grandparents live in a part of the state ripe with unconquered land. Boy, if you ever need a spot to sit and not see any person for miles and miles you will find no shortage. As busy as I was in high school, I often think that these moments of rest and silence and separation from my routine were a big reason I didn’t totally break down (which happened later anyway but after I graduated lol).

Here we are now. It’s a little under a decade later from that point as I write this. I’m pulling this exercise from my school days into young adulthood. Why? The most embarrassing thing a creative can admit is feeling futile. Not that I have a lack of ideas. Quite the opposite! I have so many thoughts whirling around up there, I don’t know where to start. This inevitably leads to thoughts of whether or not I should start. I wasn’t gaining any ground personally. I’ve been working on the same story off-and-on (but mostly off) for half-a-year now when I set a deadline for myself to end it before the holidays.

I don’t know if posting this will help or if it should. I’ve meant to keep more hand-written journal entries for my own use for ages now. This won’t be that. Just a Stream of Conscious following a very broad outline of my day. I don’t expect anyone to find that interesting or even attempt to read but, I’m hoping for myself that if I can at least write and post this, the floodgates will open, and I can dump some of the other stuff taking up real estate in my Right Lobe.

I’ll start with my views of Good Snow vs Bad Snow. There was a huge storm that made its way across the continental US this past weekend. I joined much of my friends on the East Coast and elsewhere watching as snow the snow fell…and fell…and fell. Eventually I dug myself out, but not immediately, oh no. What few errands I had left by Friday were taken care of before noon, affording me ample time to return home and perch at my bedroom window to watch the cavalcade of ice crystals float by.

Last year was a Bad Snow. The winter was long and bitter with constant sub-freezing temperatures. The winter storm started as a thunderstorm, which of course became freezing rain which then turned into sleet a short time later and iced over every road. Only after all this did the near 12 inches of snow come through to make a double dare of danger. This may shock you but…it sucked!

Seasons are nice but wear can out their welcome, etc.

This year was a Good Snow! (Even if it wasn’t, I may have been more forgiving just because I didn’t have anywhere to go for two days.) It was a peaceful storybook snowfall with no wind or garbage precipitation. With only an hour or so of sleet, there was no ice whatsoever. We only had to sit and wait – from Friday afternoon to early Sunday morning – as the snow fell uninterrupted. I took a single step outside my door to observe more closely. The flakes were big and chunky, gathering in light, fluffy heaps upon landing. It’s the kind of snow that calendar-makers dream of. No trace of wet-nasty slush anywhere. I almost ventured out…until I remembered, as I do every Winter, that I had a PlayStation waiting and shut the door.

A full day and change later, I’m ready to go. I don’t get stir crazy easily and I knew it wasn’t that. It was far more serious. My last depressive episode was sometime in early 2018. I overslept and was late to my morning dental check-up. So late in fact that the desk clerk kindly let me reschedule for later that month. Maybe she saw something I didn’t, because the next thing I did was walk straight to my car, pull up the memo app in my phone, type out I think I’m still depressed, delete that same memo, and sob quietly alone in the still sparse parking lot.

It scared me, frankly. It came out of nowhere and to this day I don’t know what triggered it. I don’t get too upset about being late to appointments other than me, in general, not keen of being late to anything. Whatever it was just happened to catch me lacking. Up to that moment, I haven’t felt so alone and useless since I left school and I was emotionally underwater for three years.

The notion of going back to that terrified me enough that I called my best friend later that day and told him what happened. He told me that whenever he feels an episode like this might occur, he forces himself to engage in constructive social ventures. Maybe he goes ice skating or takes a drive with his partner, a chance to do something he likes with like-minded people – or at least near like-minded people. Shamefully I admit that I haven’t been nearly as diligent about this as I should have. And it is a shame because the advice was timely and sincere from a man I love like a brother. Yet still, I remembered what he said and grabbed a shovel. I wouldn’t let the pretty snow be my excuse for not making it to the function I was invited to that night.

Excavating the car

The first picture is from my first wave of shoveling after ninety minutes of the heave-ho. I looked at the edge of the driveway, piled high with plowed snow, and retreated to breakfast, which I should have started with. Half-an-hour later, I make my way back outside and hear a fluttering from behind me. Four small birds have parked themselves in the garage. Small, brown, roundish birds that have been showing up everywhere in the area recently. (There were a half dozen hiding under my snow-covered car.) I’ve got no beef with birds; I gently shooed them out into the yard, all of them taking the same route circling the back of the garage out. Except for one that stayed perched on the rear shelf. It was very pretty with pale feathers. So grey they were almost blue. “Come on, girl,” I said. “This way.” And she was off to catch up with the crew while I closed the garage. No more loitering today.

Not long after receiving some blessed help from a neighbor I pushed off to my old job site to visit. Fun fact about radio: even when the world is snowed in, the stations still play. And if you’re responsible for several of them, someone (or several) has to show up and make things go. A visit of solidarity, but mostly I just needed to kill time.

I was the last one to arrive at the function, which was indeed video game related. This blog has its own segments dedicated to gaming talk, so I’ll save the details for that. All you really need to know is that we played Super Smash Bros. 64 a.k.a. the version I’ve played the least since I started playing Melee [checks notes] in 2003. Apparently, I’m good with Yoshi, the most difficult character in the game. I hope to get more chances to play the game and experiment and just hang out.

The roads were clear the whole way back home. Maybe just a little bit soggy. Driving has become a good cleanser for me. It’s hard for your mind to go to any untoward places when you have to focus on Not Dying. I never realized how crazy dangerous driving is until I started commuting regularly. All those years up and down the freeway. It’s by the grace that I wasn’t creamed by some truck or drunken driver.

When it’s a late night and I’m one of two or three people passing through – or, better still, I have the road to myself – I ease out of cruising speed and apply the SpongeBob-branded Big Toe to the gas pedal and watch the night creep by. There was overcast on this night, so I couldn’t see the sky. When I can, I’m guided home by the celestial bodies, illuminating my path even when there are no lamp posts within miles. My favorite is riding on a warm night with the window down and seeing clearly one or several shooting stars arching across the sky. It's a vibe.

I notice it even before I pull up to my house past midnight. A deathly, almost unnatural silence. When the weather is even partially mild, you can sense the activity. You could never hope to see the insects or amphibians or woodland fuzzies lurking about, but you knew they were out there. Somewhere. They likely still are. When it snows, though, everything…stops. Nature is smarter than us. We brave the elements to work and eat and play Smash. When Nature takes a day off, you notice. There was a minute-long pause by me as I locked my car. I swear if someone was talking fifty-yards away I might have heard it.

You know that strange colored glow you get when there’s a heavy cloud cover over a well-lit town? A scene out of Dmitry Levin’s dreams. If I had a proper camera, I’d have taken a stroll around the neighborhood to get some street level shots of the newly-frosted landscape. I used to take photos all the time, especially while in school. It’s been years since I’ve invested in myself. I think that will be the next order of business.

After ducking inside I got back to work on this entry. Thought about staying up to finish it, decided on getting a proper night of rest. As noted at the top, my arm was protesting the rest of my body. I did him a solid and turned in, finished the rest before heading in to work.

Not sure how to finish this one. I’ll say thanks for playing, as I always do. I appreciate the eyeballs however they come. There are lots of friends that stop by the blog and lots of strangers, too. I’m thankful for all of you. I don’t ordinarily write stuff…like this? Something was off and needed to change. At this moment, the one thing I can change is my head space. Dumping every last one of these words seems like the best course. With hope, I can get back to making actual “Content!” like you’re used to.

It was good to get out. Good to meet new folks. Good to see old faces. Good to be breathing. Blessings Be.