I like to rise when the sun she rises...
May. 1st, 2003 09:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
beetigerWell, some years. This year, apparently I’m willing to rise after smacking the snooze alarm twice and only early enough to get to work fifteen minutes late.
A week ago, I certainly remembered that May Day was coming up. I wrote to the Mianus River Morris team, claimed the secret credentials of “Once a Heart of Oak, always an artichoke”, and tried to find out if they were dawn dancing anywhere near my office. They let me know the closest folks dancing in the May at dawn were either in Manhattan or New Haven. They did invite me to come dancing in general, since apparently they practice in Greenwich now, about halfway between my home and office. Obviously right now’s not a great time to start dancing again, but the idea made my heart jump, and perhaps this time next year I’ll pursue it.
The spam in my mailbox when I open it reads “crabavple rejitative”, which I immediately read as “crabapple recitative”, and I wonder if the big apple trees are going to flower and fruit this year, as the little one is all in bloom and they’re strangely bare for what ought to be an on-year for them. Much as I don’t think I’ll have the energy to spend long days making pie and jam and applesauce, I still want to wallow in that abundance.
I entirely forgot the date, this morning, until Bard reminded me. We missed our Temple’s ritual event this year, and now I’m vaguely, mopily, craving twenty minutes dancing at a maypole that someone else has erected. I’m not tired the way I was a few weeks ago, and I kind of feel like I should be bursting with the joy of life, all festive and inspired as I’m waiting to share this wonderful world with someone brand-new. But I’m not. Part of me is still mired in winter laziness, and perhaps I need someone else to drag me out.
I don’t think forcing myself to do ritual will help much, not sure trying to encourage myself to feel sexy when I just don’t is going to do anything but make me annoyed. Maybe I ought to let this one pass, take my midwife’s appointment this evening as the focus of where I am right now. But in my secret heart, I want someone beautiful to scoop me up, throw this pile of paperwork across the room, tie some ribbons in my hair, and insist that I come dancing.
A week ago, I certainly remembered that May Day was coming up. I wrote to the Mianus River Morris team, claimed the secret credentials of “Once a Heart of Oak, always an artichoke”, and tried to find out if they were dawn dancing anywhere near my office. They let me know the closest folks dancing in the May at dawn were either in Manhattan or New Haven. They did invite me to come dancing in general, since apparently they practice in Greenwich now, about halfway between my home and office. Obviously right now’s not a great time to start dancing again, but the idea made my heart jump, and perhaps this time next year I’ll pursue it.
The spam in my mailbox when I open it reads “crabavple rejitative”, which I immediately read as “crabapple recitative”, and I wonder if the big apple trees are going to flower and fruit this year, as the little one is all in bloom and they’re strangely bare for what ought to be an on-year for them. Much as I don’t think I’ll have the energy to spend long days making pie and jam and applesauce, I still want to wallow in that abundance.
I entirely forgot the date, this morning, until Bard reminded me. We missed our Temple’s ritual event this year, and now I’m vaguely, mopily, craving twenty minutes dancing at a maypole that someone else has erected. I’m not tired the way I was a few weeks ago, and I kind of feel like I should be bursting with the joy of life, all festive and inspired as I’m waiting to share this wonderful world with someone brand-new. But I’m not. Part of me is still mired in winter laziness, and perhaps I need someone else to drag me out.
I don’t think forcing myself to do ritual will help much, not sure trying to encourage myself to feel sexy when I just don’t is going to do anything but make me annoyed. Maybe I ought to let this one pass, take my midwife’s appointment this evening as the focus of where I am right now. But in my secret heart, I want someone beautiful to scoop me up, throw this pile of paperwork across the room, tie some ribbons in my hair, and insist that I come dancing.
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no subject
Date: 2003-05-01 09:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-01 12:35 pm (UTC)Also, please realize that ASCII art is doomed without <pre> tags, might still be doomed without stylesheets (which you can't have in LJ comments), and even then might still be doomed. HTML is a language of words, not pictures, and there is no way whatsoever to guarantee that the layout will be the way you want. This is a feature: for all you know, my browser window is ten characters wide and sideways, with automatic translation into Basque. In general, if you want a picture, make a picture; and if you just want to dash off a piece of ASCII art, use <tt> (fixed-width font) and <pre> (pre-formatted whitespace) and hope for the best.
And yeah, technically you should use for spaces you don't want to wrap. That's why they're called non-breaking spaces, after all. And yeah, you have to use & to get an ampersand.
Go RTFM and TOFM now. Without these clues, your web sites will never come out quite right.