Hold onto your hat. This is going to be a long-winded post. Much to recall.
So, as you can see, I am back after a week of avoiding this activity. That is ok. Being home has been quite good, and quite busy. The first few days of home life consisted of a post-school stupor, and shying away from the wretched, huge piles of clothes on my floor. Bleh. I finally slaughtered those yesterday, and my living space is much more pleasant. Now I can curl up in here with some favorite books and hot chocolate, and wait out the rain so I can plant flowers.It has been weird, though, being away from people and school and my dorm. I miss that room. I knew I would.
Move-out day was so surreal. I'm not even sure I want to think about it. The night before moving out was good, though. After completing my drawing final at about 7:30, I said goodbye to schoolwork, and upon coming back to the dorm, eventually went over to a park in Cedar-Riverside to play frisbee with a few chums. Later on, some of us went to Hard Times one last time, andI got this weird coconut water stuff that was really refreshing. I whooped Isaiah's butt in chess (yes, I had to put that in here), but Mona schooled me in a tedious game afterwards. We left after midnight, and the rest of my early morning was spent hanging out in Mona's room until about 3:30. A grand way to end freshman year.
So now I am here. And it is ok.
The world is so beautiful this time of year. I can't really get over it. Brenna and I took an excursion the other day. We stopped at the new Plymouth library to pick of some paperbacks filled with poetry, then climbed in my van, and drove West. We drove out to Rockford, MN, about a half-hour due west of Maple Grove, out in the rural hills on the edge of Hennepin County. It is a quaint little township, with old cafés and shops and such, but that is not what we were looking for. We drove to the local park, and parked the van in front of some big old houses, brimming with childrens. The scene was almost too classic for a nostalgic person such as myself. A mother sitting on the front porch, watching the work go by, while her kids played in various yards, on bikes, trikes, and whatever else. A girl about 11 years old, strolled down the sidewalk, reading some adventurous novel, I'm sure. Brenna and I felt a little out of place, so, without further ado, we grabbed our books, blanket, and other supplies, and moseyed into the park across the street.
The park was a vast field with old trees scattered about, and a playground in the distance. A couple was setting up an ice cream stand by the sidewalk, so maybe there was a baseball game going on later. We headed straight for the woods, because on the way in, we had driven across some river that ran through those woods. After reassuring me that the wood ticks would not have my soul, Brenna led the way down the grassy path, into the tree line along the edge of the river. The South Crow River, as I later found out it was called, looked like something out of a Mark Twain novel. The lush forest glowed green and ethereal on the banks, the water sparkled, ducks flew down the middle of the river, hovering just a few feet above the water. Gnats hung in their little clouds, shimmering in the low sun. Sticky wild geraniums lined the banks, accompanied by bunches of ivy and dandelions. A vine with a little pink ribbon tied to it looked like an adequate swinging rope, marked for later use. An abandoned bobber hung from a branch high over the river; a memory of some unlucky fisherman. The sun filtered through the leaves as if through a silken sieve. I almost expected a crudely-fashioned raft to come floating around the bend in the river, manned by a Minnesotan Tom Sawyer and crew.
Brenna and I sat on our blanket on the dirt path, read a few sonnets, quirky poems and monologues, and gradually packed up, because the mosquitoes were finding me, and it was getting later. We strolled back to our car, having dubbed that place one of the prettiest hangouts around. That is our summer mission--to find the most beautiful place in our area. Not sure how we're going to decide, but I won't worry about it.
We drove back along those winding country roads, past cemeteries, ranches, white-steepled churches, and fields of green and gold.
A good day.
The rest of my week was rather uneventful. Linus has been his weird, stubborn self. I have taken up the role of fun-but-discipline-enforcing-Nazi-friend. Something like that. We love each other, but I am letting him know who's boss. He is a happy-go-lucky fellow, and is currently snoozing downstairs to some Simon and Garfunkel on vinyl as the thunder rolls by. We got him a kiddie pool this week, and he gradually worked up the courage to put all four feet in and splash around. In this kind of heat, he will really appreciate it.
Oh! I declared my major this week! Thought you should know that. It was weird going back to campus, but nonetheless, I am glad I got that over with. I am now officially and art major! Huzzah!
On Wednesday, I believe, Carla and I had a ruckus of a day. We got up at 6, got ready, and headed to Bethel University so she could take her writing final. Then we galumphed over to Starbucks, took in some much needed caffeine, and drove over to Dinkytown and the U campus. Both of us had never been in the Bell Museum of Natural History, so we moseyed about in there for about an hour, then hung out in our car until 11. Going into the mall, we eventually met Rachel, Sarah, Lucie and Noah for a post-school picnic. Twas a good time with good food and good people. There were junior highers everywhere for some lame tour event, and we taunted them by playing frisbee in the wet grass. Whahaha.
I am now stage managing for the CB Productions Show of Wuthering Heights. It's a bit weird, being back in my old position--a bit like going back in time. Not sure what I think about it yet, although I am excited. Auditions were the last two evenings, and callbacks are on Monday. So we'll soon see who I'll be spending my month of July with :)
Carla was just sitting here next to me on my bed, reading poetry as I blogged. She made some fantastic stovetop popcorn, and brought it up to share. Today I just glorious. It's glorious because it is dark. Dark and gloomy and cozy. I am so happy. It's supposed to storm all week, too.
BLISS.
I think I will go excavate these popcorn hulls out of my face now.
To infinity and beyond with ye.
Songs of the Week:
Mr. Tambourine Man by Cloud Cult
A Place by Cloud Cult
