The Myth & The Majesty

After a winter entirely lacking in activity, it seems only natural that everything would start to happen at once. Really, isn't that just the way it works most of the time? It all started when Shorty was home for spring break. He started egging me on as far as this summer was concerned; not much later, I exchanged a few emails with my former boss and before I knew it, I had agreed to return to Storm for the summer. It's possible I've never overthought something as much as that decision. In the end, it boiled down to a very basic decision: do the truly adult thing and continue looking for something longer-term here in Sioux Falls, or embrace my youth and the chance to go back. Once I realized that a) this is exactly the kind of thing I was looking forward to when I was first presented with my gypsy year, b) I can hang out with Shorty for the summer, which I haven't done since he was old enough to be much fun, and c) I may never get a chance like this again, I decid

The hardest thing to adjust to each time I move is the traffic. Or -- far more accurately -- the other drivers. I learned to drive in eastern South Dakota ... egads, thirteen years ago. (Not counting the handful of times I got to drive on the ranch. There it's a matter of, "Can you reach the pedals? Then you can help.") What this means is that you have to be able to go from a not-terribly-well-maintained gravel road to city streets without causing problems, and a driver's ed test will test exactly that. It doesn't sound so terribly taxing until you're actually in the situation with another hundred thousand cars. And of course it gets easier. But I'll get back to that. For comparison, there are plenty of other drivers to examine. Rapid City drivers don't waste time. They're moderately polite, but if you're going to try to pull something they will gang up on you. (I mean this in terms of, say, racing down the open lane at a construction

Last week, I saw my first motorcycle of the season. I was psyched. Then, I got a cold. Not my favorite sign but it seems to be a necessary one. Today, the Big Sioux decided to flood. Admittedly not a good sign, but a sign nonetheless. But! Today also brought a thunderstorm. I didn't realize how much I had missed nature's light shows until I was given one again. The snow is nearly gone, even in the spots where there were eight foot drifts. The weather's gone entirely hinky (even more so than usual) but it's getting progressively warmer. I'm sure there are robins somewhere ... Our backyard seems to be popular with blackbirds instead. All the signs are there ... Even my usual bout of cabin fever, made a little worse by the comparative idleness of the last few months. Spring. Welcome back. Oh, how I missed you.

[First of all, I give you this link . I was amused. You're welcome.] In honor of St. Patrick's Day, we had corned beef and cabbage with rye bread on Thursday. No, that's not supposed to be what makes you jealous. I certainly wouldn't be. I don't much care for corned beef and cabbage, but most years I end up eating it anyway. (Ew.) On Thursday I was in no shape to argue because I had a cold that kept me from moving much and boggled my brain enough that I couldn't seem to come up with an alternate Irish dinner. Today I was feeling much more normal and the rather Irish-y dessert Mom found (that none of us would have been able to eat on Thursday anyway because we were all feeling pretty crappy) looked a little too good to pass up. And oh, it was so good. That caramel sauce was an adventure. First because it involves Irish whiskey ... and second because it involves flaming the Irish whiskey. Which, as the recipe says, actually does make a fireball. A s

Today my head is full of the day I took this. Cabin fever? Perhaps. Thank goodness the weather is good... (The Tower of London, from the Tower tube stop, February 2009.)

There is an episode of "Scrubs" called "My Journey." The whole episode is "Wizard of Oz"-themed and it's ... well, pretty funny. In the opening segment, JD gets called in on his day off and as he's riding his scooter to work, he's hitting as many pothole puddles as possible. This leads to him landing in one particularly large puddle and disappearing from sight, resurfacing in another pothole a few feet further down. "Where was I?!" I tell you this because I want you to have the proper mental picture when I say I was encountering Oz-like puddles on my trip into town. They're fierce. After near-record snowfall and all sorts of cold weather, the city streets have been thoroughly trounced by frost heave. Add some sunshine to melt the drifts and you have a somewhat treacherous seven-mile journey for yours truly. I won't complain too loudly. The weather is perfect. I got to wear sandals today for the first time (showing off

This may be the most perfect comic for this week. (Of course, it was printed three and a half years ago.)

Okay. There's a story I have never told here. One of my most amusing stories, too, for that matter. It has always seemed more fit for parties than a family-friendly blog ... and to be honest, it is more fit for parties than a family-friendly blog. However, as it is one of my best stories, most of my family members have heard it, and it contains no actual foul language ... plus I'm reasonably sure I have no young, impressionable readers ... and besides that, it could serve as a warning tale if I do ... I've decided to tell it here. With any luck, I can write it very closely to how I normally tell it. I apologize in advance for any run-on sentences. So here we go. This is Grocery Store Guy. * While living in Wausau, I had a habit of going to Barnes & Noble after work on Fridays. It was my wind-down time and quite crucial to my happiness. This particular Friday -- a random one in March two years ago, not long after England (where I was proposed to by a drunken Eng