We were scheduled to have photographs of Fram working out today, but somehow the camera was dropped into a swimming pool. Someone reported that Fram walked right into the pool when he turned his head to look at a young lady strolling past. Under the circumstances, these representations will have to do to illustrate Saturday in the life of Fram the Actual.Splish-splash: Washing winter from my body ....
My winter, my personal calendar for winter, runs from November 1 through March 31. As I have noted before on these pages, I once attended a Labor Day picnic during which snow flurries were among the afternoon guests. I have seen three or four inches of snow accumulate the week of Memorial Day. The most violent blizzard I ever have been caught in took place on April 14. Never-the-less, those five months of "Fram Winter" are all I am willing to tolerate, no matter what comes out of the blue during the other seven months of the year.
This means we are in the midst of the last weekend of winter, at least according to my calendar. Time to begin the festival of spring.
I rolled into bed about 5:30 a.m. Saturday morning. At 9:45 a.m., I opened my eyes. I felt wide awake and refreshed, so much so my first thought was that I had slept round the clock. (I have done that two or three times during my life; maybe more, who keeps count?) But that was not the case. Four hours of sleep again, but with clarity and clearness to accompany them.
(Big time-out. "Stay [just a little bit longer]" came on the radio. The Jackson Browne version. That song kills me. Lot of memories .... ok .... back to here again.)
After coffee, toast and a bit of television news, I replenished food shelves and liquor cabinet. Then I went to a Y (as in MCA). It was my first visit there in at least two years. I went through about 90 minutes of leisurely working out. I had resumed a few almost-daily push-ups and sit-ups and what-nots toward the end of February, so it was not exactly a shock to the system.
Next, I went to the pool and swam for about 30 minutes. Other than a pair of fast laps from sheer exuberance, I mostly just hung out: Closing my eyes and sinking, drifting, returning to the womb (sort of), seeing how long I could hold my breath, watching the young ladies, splish-splash.
Finally, I stood under a very hot shower for nearly 30 minutes, washing away the last remnants of this long, dreary winter from my body.
The weather report for tomorrow (later today, actually) is good. Saturday, the body was cleansed of winter. On Sunday, cleansing of the mind will begin in earnest. Monday, a few inches of snow are in the forecast, but who cares? Certainly not me. Winter ends for me on Wednesday, no matter what happens .... do you understand what I am saying?
Mother, I went to China this morning.
The trees were pagodas, the puddles were seas.
Dragons were hiding behind the begonias.
I was a mandarin.
Willows were blowing.
Lies, lies, said she.
And I hid from her frightening eyes.
who can say, who can say?
Children, the gardens belong now to goblins.
The willows spread legends, the waterfall plays.
Fairytales wind like a web round the window.
Goodnight to all birds now.
The night's wings are folding.
Lies, lies, said I.
But I hid from her wonderful eyes.
who can say, who can say?
"Who Can Say"
by Alastair Reid
Music Note: Content (again) to listen to a classic rock station on the radio ….
Currently playing: "Rebel Yell" by Billy Idol
