Chapter 85: Thoughts During a Vacation Rain Storm

Earlier today, while measuring my ark cubit by cubit, I was thinking about spring. There are lots of aspects to the season. Baseball, as usual, is toward the top. Love also, though I don't know that spring really has cornered the market on that. I've enjoyed snuggling down on a cold winter's night, summer romances, and fall... No, love pretty much sucks in the fall.

Anyway, spring brings with it a bucket load of change. But like most change, you don't really feel it until after the change has occurred. A couple weeks ago, it still felt wintry enough, with snow and chill and stomping of feet. But the tell-tale signs of spring were there if you looked.

For example, the sun has been still visible when I get out of work. This practically never happens during the winter. But just last week, some friends and I walked in sunlight to a relatively nearby pub for our first-ever post-work, pre-season softball team pep rally (basically, an excuse to get together for a couple pints with people who we'll be spending time with over the next few spring and summer months).

And St. Patrick's Day is nearly upon us, which is another sure sign of spring. St. Patrick's Day is that special day when a bunch of people decide to insult everyone of Irish heritage by claiming that since they've had five pints of Guinness they're actually Irish, despite the vowels and collection of Ys and Zs at that end their names. No, that just means you're drunk. And that's fine; I don't hold that against anyone. Most of the time.

As someone of Irish descent — who learned how American I am by going to school in Ireland for a semester of college — I find spring and St. Patrick's Day to be kinda special. Like I said earlier, it's a time of transition. I used to be a summer person. But at this point in my life, I like a good mudslide, a mild rainstorm (not like this windy crap that's tormenting me now), and a nice week off to try to relax.

For what it's worth, a portion of my relaxation will take place on Tuesday, when a buddy of mine and I head over to the Diamond Bar in Brooklyn to enjoy a night of mayhem with Zane Lamprey (which must be a madeup name), author of Three Sheets: Drinking Made Easy. So if anyone in the neighborhood feels like enjoying a little spring break adult style, feel free to join me. I'll be the guy with the leather trench coat and all-season beard.

What does that have to do with change? Well, I don't usually go out now that I'm the father of a pair of beautiful ankle biters. Especially without the wife. So this is a sign that the world is in transition. More certain than the destruction of the planet in 2012, I will be enjoying a pint on Tuesday night. Maybe even two. Can spring be far behind?

Chapter 82.5: Spring Cleaning

It's cold and breezy still, but the sun is shining and my mood isn't as dark as it was last night. Amazing what a couple of sleeping babies and cups of coffee can do to a person.

Anyway, I have had a lot of things on my mind lately, one of the least of which is this blog, which I cherish but have been neglecting lately. So I decided to give it a little bit of a makeover — nothing too earth shattering (there really are not many template choices when one has a free blog) — and mark a milestone.

Recently, I crossed over the 500 post mark. I'm not quite sure which one it was (though I'm thinking it might have to do with dirty diapers). But since I have a few posts in the hopper and others that are actually notes for myself (who knows what evil lurks in the post lists of man...), it's possible that this one is #500.

I've also added a followers list. I don't expect too many, but as that little woman in the Poltergeist movie said: "All are welcome. All are welcome."

In the grand scheme of things, 500 blog posts is not much of an accomplishment. I may, however, try to do something to mark my five-year "blogoversary," which is a few months away.

Anyway, enjoy your weekend. There's a lot of work still to do.

Chapter 60.66: New Thought for the Day

I saw this and found it too clever to pass by without passing on to the rest of the world (such that arrives here).

Thought for the Day
Every year, back comes Spring, with nasty little birds yapping their fool heads off and the ground all mucked up with plants.

-- Dorothy Parker

Chapter 58.6: Cold Spring

I've railed about it before -- too much, I suspect -- but winter is supposed to get warmer as it approaches spring. Here it is, the first full day of spring, and I find myself toying with the thermostat and standing in the shower a little longer under the warm stream. It's freezing!

Last night, before I went to bed, I checked what the temperature was supposed to be -- to make sure the case of beer left over from St. Patrick's Day wouldn't explode in the porch. Needless to say, the beer came inside. I'm sure that in a couple weeks the temperatures will be above 45 consistently and the sunshine in the evening will enable me to jog before dinner and enjoy a bit more of the day.

But for now, damn! it's cold outside.

Chapter 57.5: A Good Weekend

It's not even noon yet, and already I feel like I've had a fantastic weekend. There's much I still need to do. Eat breakfast, go to the supermarket, jog, help my brother move some stuff in his house. But rare weekends like this, where I actually have two days that I can use, become precious.

This morning, before we got out of bed, I read another thirty pages or so of Lisey's Story by Stephen King. This is the book that actually appears to have had an editor touch it, and it's an improvement over many of his recent novels. My wife is struggling through Cell, which she says takes 110 pages to describe what could easily have been accomplished in less than half that amount. I've not read it, but when a devoted reader like my wife starts skimming her favorite author, you can be sure there's problems with the story. As for Lisey, the novel took about seventy pages to get to the real threat, but he took that time to cast out a few other story lines related to the characters. I respect King's love of the craft, even though he irritates me with his that/which problems.

So, dear reader, you see that for me a good weekend needn't be all sun and shine and lunar eclipse. Sometimes it can be simply a warm bed, a cup or two of coffee, and a book to read. At least until the baseball season starts.

Chapter 57.4: Spring!

That darn groundhog may have been right! As I was taking the garbage to the curb last night -- dodging raindrops -- I smelled it. Spring! It was in the air. There was a sweetness I'd almost forgotten. No, not the garbage. Before I even grabbed the green can and dragged that dripping tub to the road, I smelled the distinct aroma of life and energy emerging from dormancy. It enlivened me. I got a woody. (No, not really. I thought it would be funny.) And with the weather forecast saying there'll be warmth after the torrent of rain that I went to work in this morning, I couldn't help but feel that today will be a good day. Thank God, and thank that varmint from Pennsylvania.

Chapter 56.3: Almost There

The Super Bowl is over and the Colts have won. Soon the Swimsuit Issue will arrive to the delight of teen age boys all over the country. But as sure as bikinis were made to be removed, baseball season is right around the bend to warm the cockles of our hearts.

It's way too soon to make predictions, but I'm looking forward to seeing my Mets again. Sure, the pitching staff has many question marks, and some of the pitchers will fail. I'm ready. Get me some neat's foot oil for my glove and some pine tar for my bat. I know it's 20 degrees out, but I'm ready for baseball!