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bear by san

March 2017

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daffodils

i'll make you lick my injury.

It's only snowpocalypsing very lightly, but it's supposed to go on off and on all day, with a gradual evolution into sleet and then, by tomorrow, rain. Right now, this means the Fearless Kjitten is pawing at the windows and lecturing the enticing white flakes outside because he cannot touch them. (Eeeeee! he says. Meeeeee! A direct quotation.)

A hulking monster kjitten contemplates the snowfall.I contemplate staying home with my feet up all day. I have a blog entry to write for Storytellers Unplugged, and I sort of feel like I should write another four or five or ten pages on Grail (oh deathmarch, you never gave me anything, but the end really is in sight), and I promised TBRE pizza for dinner.

I also just decided I want oatmeal. Mm, oatmeal.

Right now, though, I am trying to talk myself out of going for a run. My hands hurt from climbing (I need to ice and take some NSAIDs) and my bad ankle is sore and stiff this morning, and you know, in general, maybe it would be a smart day to give your body a break, Bear.

The sore hands thing is, of course, because I am working on harder climbs, which means concomitantly smaller and tricker handholds requiring (often) greater force to stick on. Which translates to tendon strain and scraped fingers and palms. Which translates to soreness and inflammation and generally achy hands.

Yeah, we do this because it's fun, what can I say?

In other news, the winter jasmine in my bedroom has one blossom open. It smells wonderful already, and the cats have decided it must be cat greens in a convenient hanging basket. I should put it in the shower and give it a nice warm rainstorm. I should also clean that catbox, which doesn't smell as nice as the jasmine.

First, of course, I have to somehow manage to get out of this bed. Which, it turns out, is extraordinarily complicated.

Comments

I get the impression that, in general, your body works the same way as my husband's, in that the harder he works it (to a point) the happier it is. This makes it harder for him to determine the times when it really *does* need a break. My body seems more difficult prefer gentler exercise (which isn't what I give it, but I think it's happiest when I just do lots and lots of walking with some sprint-type (or weightlifting or climbing) workouts instead of sustained hard ones, and it seems to need more breaks.

I'm really kind of amazed at how much people's bodies vary in terms of what food and exercise work best for them.
Mine would prefer to lie on the couch and eat bonbons all day, I think, but then I get depressed and feel awful.

On the other hand, I tend to get obsessive and keep doing whatever I am doing by throwing myself at it as hard as possible. I suck at moderation.

There is nothing quite so lovely as the smell of real jasmine flowers. I've never found a jasmine perfume that could truly capture the scent. They're all overdone, and seem to be screaming at you, while the fragrance that wafts from the flowers themselves is teasing and elusive.
Truth.
There is a brief, lovely period in Los Angeles when the scent of jasmine threads its way through the entire city, wraps itself around the roses, and drowns out the reek of asphalt and smog.
We have that in the Twin Cities with lilacs.
We have that in the Twin Cities with lilacs.

Oh! Lilacs! I miss lilacs. Lilacs like to be cold - they won't grow here. There are some warm-weather varieties, but I rarely see them.
I love lilacs. We have some on the border of our yard but there are so many larger trees that they don't get much sun. I want to plant some along the driveway where they will get more light and water.

Here they like to put them along the highways--entrance and exit ramps were a particular favorite place of the highway planners, apparently--and you get huge clusters of ginormous lilacs all blooming at the same time. It's heavenly.
At least this snowpocalypse-lite doesn't seem to be leaving anything I need to shovel. I am not in favor of shoveling.
if the cats get to the jasmine plant, maybe the catbox would smell better... grin.
Cats are extraordinarily heavy for their size.