It’s the disorder of it all: inability to make plans or get anything done. The sky is falling (and stuff keeps falling out of it). To move is to fight against elements, lack of friction, clashing forces, cold, blindness. Welcome to the Spring that isn’t, that refuses to show up. It’s bloody likely the lion is beating the hell out of Spring.
I’ve been off kilter, feeling like I hardly belong anywhere; feeling dizzy, like I fell hard and hit my head. I did fall in fact, twice.
Mid March: perhaps we’re in the midst of great cosmic change. All I know is: I can’t seem to finish anything. I’m jarred, unearthed, sideswiped and buffaloed. Did I mention, dizzy?
Let’s not even bring up politics. There’s enough going on inside my head to preclude the need to jeer at outside or incoming idiocy. Here’s the cold hard truth in simple terms: I did it to myself and I did it good. The culprit (as usual) was my own crummy, blinding expectations. When I get burned, it’s always because I didn’t expect to.
Had we room in this 400-word column I’d tell at least four personal stories in which I might even appear betrayed. They all happened this past week. On hearing the first one Farmer might ask if the “Cotton Bunny” was lurking (his trademark PMS reference).
Condensed, the moral of each story is: Stay home. Keep to yourself. Expect nothing from anyone and avoid disappointment.
Recently I wrote about expecting Spring. The following evening a storm walloped us with more snow than we’ve had in any single dump this winter. It has blown, stuck and iced up ever since.
Tuesday morning (the morning after) I grained calves and bulls and checked water troughs. The bulls had tried theirs but couldn’t drink. Their heating element wasn’t working. I pounded my fists then used one boot: no go. So I climbed up, standing, my full weight on the frozen trough. Not a crack.
Jumping straight up into the air proved to be the tipping point. A moment later, knee deep in ice water, I located the lion: tearing flesh from my bones. Once again: what had I expected?
The other stories involve people.
The weather forecast hinted at another warm up by weekend but March’s prerogative continues to toy with such expectations.
Expect lions and stay home.
