Ravings of a Textual Deviant

What is the policy violation?

a) Muffin is Buster’s supervisor

b) Buster is trying to infuence Muffin’s decision in a contract negotiation

c) Improper use of the company’s digital camera

I was very new, and very late.

When I reached the far corner of the cemetery, only three men with shovels remained. In spite of that—maybe because of it—I opened myself to the Spirit and preached like I’d never preached before.

“Amen!” shouted the diggers. “Amen!”

I preached about sin, redemption, the hope of Paradise, and about the meek inheriting the earth.

People love that last one.

At the end, I could feel His glory reaching out of the sky, like sundogs.

As I was leaving, one man said “This here’s the blessedest utility box in the state.”

This spring, my brother mentioned that he’s been using eco-lawn. He made it sound like the best thing since homemade bread, especially the part about only having to mow it once a month and not needing to water, pesticize, or fertilize. Anything that lets me be both ecological and lazy while still having a decent-looking yard sounded too good to pass up.

It’s not like we ever water, pesticize, or fertilize anyway. (Fiancé does the mowing, as the mower is decidedly un-ergonomic for me.) I have a very Darwinian attitude towards my landscaping. Anything desirable that is strong enough to survive on its own is better for it. Weeds that are strong enough to survive on their own are fodder for weed-eater-induced catharsis.

Finally, I couple of weeks ago, I shelled out for the 50-lb. bag.

So, last weekend, Fiancé took a break from re-siding the north face of the house (but that’s another story) and dethatched the lawn for what was probably the first time in eight years. After way, way, waaaaaay too much raking, we handed off our chemical-free grass clippings to my dad for some serious composting, and settled in to await the delivery of our magic beans seed.

Yesterday, I got out the spreader (apparently I’ve had one for some time, although I don’t remember acquiring it) and proceeded to sow about 17 lbs. of seed all over the lawn. And believe me, it needed it. Since then, I have been moving the sprinkler around the yard, hoping to encourage Supergrass to save us.

A few weeks ago, I found out that my usual Thursday-night yoga class had not met the minimum required enrollment. I spent a few weeks as the Thursday-night floating substitute, which was fine, but not exactly easy on the schedule. Fortunately, a new class has opened up for me, and unlike the previous one, it’s open to the public. It’s also full for the current session, which runs through December. However, it’ll be open season come January. I’ll post a reminder in a few months, in case anyone is actually reading this thing and wants to sign up.

I picked up my wedding dress on Wednesday, and it’s the right size, color, etc. There were a few loose beads, but it was duly noted in my file that they will be fixed with no extra charge at alteration time…which is March.

My new challenge to is not make any drastic changes to my current physique between now and June 1st. I have put on about 20 pounds since I bottomed out at a size zero, and admittedly, about half of that was necessary. Still some of my pants are getting awfully snug about the tummy, so a little discpline at this point is not a bad thing. Having lost 70 pounds previously, ten just doesn’t feel like that much of a big deal.

In the mean time, I have cleared a couple of “vintage” prom dresses out of my closet, to be duly Goodwilled, in order to make room for the dress. One was bought as a costume, and is a mid-eighties peach-taffeta-and-lace, Scarlett-O’Hara-wannabe monstrosity; the other is of the same era, white taffeta and lace with silver glitter, and rather silly in its own way, with a handkerchief skirt and sleeves.

I like the new dress much, much better.

Adam and Jamie burst into the cave, followed by a camera crew. The dragon awoke and scratched her nose with one claw, sending a handful of genuine antique Spanish coins cascading toward their feet. She watched, mildly amused, as they dashed around, taping everything, especially the nearly-pristine wreckage of the galleon Premio del Rey, and the skeletons of her crew. Adam examined one of the doubloons carefully.

“Busted!” he declared to the lens.

She guffawed. “I assure you, I am no myth.”

“Wrong show, lady,” Jamie hooted. “You’re on COPS, and this is definitely piracy, kidnapping, murder, and grand theft.”

In honor of Talk Like a Pirate Day, mateys!

I had a request today that a task be completed “as soon as possible or sooner.”

Yesterday was my first yoga teacher training in ten months, which is the longest I’ve gone without training since I started work on my RYT. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed it, until I showed up and saw some familiar faces. It was wonderful to drop back into student mode as well.

This training was two four-hour hybrid classes, YogaCore and Yoga Butt. (How I managed to end up with sore triceps and quadruceps after those classes is a complete mystery me, but I’ve never done things the normal way, so there you go.) At this point, I don’t think I’d try to teach a true hybrid class to my students, but I can easily see working one or two moves into the class that I am teaching.

Regardless, it was a wonderful training—the instructor was wonderful, it was a relatively small class, and as always, yoga teacher are a uniformly great group of people to study with.

“There’s a reason that nobody’s ever written a book titled Cat Herding for Fun and Profit.”