Today I woke up to snow on the ground. Technically, I think it was lintball-sized hail, but it looked like snow none-the-less, and, anxious to see snow on the beach - a first for me - I hustled out as the sun was rising to snap a picture before it all disappeared.
Walking along the beach to grab some clam chowder for dinner, a new friend and I were talking about the sound. It isn't really silent. The wind is howling and the waves roar in this constant, echoing concussions of thunder. But there are no cars. No airplanes. No machinery. Very few people peppering the vast expanse of sand, so that if they were making noise, it would be lost before it reached us. It's a quiet that isn't.
I've about had it with my foot today. I decided I did not want to drag that hulking walking cast through the airport nor find myself the target of some ambitious TSA agent wanting to frisk me or naked-x-ray me in order to find if I had hidden drugs in the monstrosity. Also, I hoped that by the time the residency ended I wouldn't have need of it, and I certainly didn't have room in my suitcase to pack it for the trip home. So I left it. And now I'm kicking myself with my one good foot. Truth is, the hobbling all over the hotel, beach, and downtown, in conjunction with the hours of just sitting while all the blood drains down to it, have started to take their toll. I woke this morning in pain, my foot swollen worse than in days.
The first class of the day was a non-fiction one, so I opted out and sat on my bed with my foot propped up under ice, rereading the workshop story for today and finishing some reviews that need to be done before I leave. During my hour break at 4:00 I iced it as well, and right now I have it under the bag again. It feels awesome to have the cold numbing it, and it helps immensely. I hobbled much less today.
I hate that I'm limping around. On top of that, I've got a lingering cough from my pre-Christmas flu that makes me sound like a TB patient, and every morning I wake up thinking, "Do I want to be the one that sounds like they need to call infectious controls on, or do I want to be the girl that smells of old-lady menthol cough drops?" Trust me, this isn't an easy choice. Add all this to my blood checking and insulin pumping and I'm surprised no one's run a yellow hazmat tape around me to cordon me off from society.
I had two more classes today and another workshop, which were incredible and which I'm still somewhat processing. I haven't been writing lately, and I miss that. I need to find time to jot some things down while I'm here. I thought finishing PRODIGAL before coming would help me have a fresh start, but now I feel aimless and without a project. It's not cool to be here a writer without a story.
Tomorrow I will try to find time to tell you about the idea of glimmers, and the exercise one of my advisors is having us work on. For tonight, it's time to go off-line and get a little more work in before I hit the hay.
Here is something that will make you feel better. We did a three-week sailing trip to the bahamas last year. This isn't the part that will make you feel better.
ReplyDeleteThe first two weeks we were in bahamian wilderness, lovely. At the end of the two weeks I sunburned my lip and it swelled up and blistered to twice its normal size and that's when we hit civilization. So, here I am, finally tan, finally ready to mingle about society but my lip looks like it should be taped off and quarantined. No kissing hubs, no swimming in the ocean...
This idea of sound and silence is something I play with in MAY. I think one line is "prairie silence is rarely quiet" (though how would I know? I've only read it a million times...;)
ReplyDeleteWe're having a snow day today! Ga is pretty much shut down until it melts... no snow plows or salt trucks up where I live. :0)
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