It's almost seven o'clock and my body is telling me it's time to go to sleep. But the sun is still high in the sky and the neighbors are in their back yard playing baseball.
Spring hit with a vengeance in Central Texas today. Yesterday and this morning the rain fell hard. This afternoon the colors gathered together in their most concentrated effort so far this year. Soon the bluebonnets will fill I-35 and parents will be racing against time to get a picture of their young ones doing their best Laura Ingals Wilder impression.
I can't remember paying much attention to the changing of the seasons when I was young. Of course, I spent most of my childhood years on the couch, drinking Dr. Pepper, eating fried whatever and watching Alf and Doogie Howser M.D.
I suppose these are the signs of age, at least for me-- Noticing spring and feeling pain.
I forgot to mention that. A few weeks ago I hurt my knee running and I've felt off kilter ever since. I grunt like an old man when I bend down and wonder to myself if I'll be able to get back up. I used to be jealous of all the athletes because they were cool and had hurt knees all the time. I secretly wished my knees would be hurt. Be careful what you wish for.
Not much going on in my world, really. Just a bunch of work. I'm off tomorrow, though, and I plan on spending it writing and reading. I'm in the middle of my first Sci-Fi novel (other than, of course, Fahrenheit 451.) It's by Neil Gaiman and the title is American God's. Many of the well informed people I know read Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, so I thought I'd join their ranks. So far, so good. Although I do catch myself reading along (in a Science Fiction novel, remember) and tell myself, "This is stupid. THAT can't happen." But it does happen and I have to remind myself it is fantasy.
Alright, I've held out long enough. I'm off to bed, and I don't care who judges me.