Seriously, weather gods are on The List. Only 40F when I got up this morning. Off to visit my niece and warm up in the car which has a more efficient heater than my house. Burrrrr.

Only 40F when I got up this morning.

::whimpers::

What I wouldn't give for 40 degrees. I've started getting all the fall catalogs and I'm dying for sweaters and snuggly knit pants and heavyweight rugby shirts and wool socks.

Freakin' Florida weather.

Laura, 40 degrees is BRRRRRR. At the cabin I assume?

Last night Polgara joined us for a baseball game. We had friends and family out in Rancho Cucamonga. SO FUN. I love minor league games, even though I hate baseball. I wish all pro sports had cheap minor league teams because minor league baseball is something I really enjoy. And not just for the quirky tshirts and cheap food and beer.

Okay I lie. Exactly for the quirky tshirts and cheap food and beer.

It was low 60s/high 50s last night, and I slept soundly with a blanket on top of me, the way God intended us to sleep!

Bat-Fail

Cute/Ridiculous Animal Thing Of The Day: Guinea Pig In A Bonnet (PICS)

Balbinka the Guinea Pig is adorable in her own right, but she's even cuter in a crocheted bonnet. She may not be able to top her brethren eating watermelon, but she's pretty darn cute.

I actually got into baseball and softball when my nanny-charges were in Little League. I think it's more fun lower levels.

Back from a walk to the farmer's market, where I got white peaches and white plums and a thai iced tea. Sadly, blueberry season seems over and I only have a couple handfuls left.

Walking over there reminded me that last night I dreamed of the hike to the Tiger's Nest. Or specifically, coming down. One of the feral beaglish dogs accompanied me all the way down and sometimes I'd get ahead of her and she'd scramble down to skip a switchback to catch up with me. See, I had this rhythm going and it was like flying. Long loping, rolling strides, sorta herringbone style, no jostling at all. I was flying and it was such a rush. It felt good and powerful, like my body was working exactly as it should, stretching to its limits, in this incredible spot in the world. I was there, all of me. And I was just flying.

And now I'm about to cry, I want that again so much. Damn. This is what I meant when I talked about decompressing. Finding little missing pieces.

I got the same feeling on everything being in balance negotiating the streets of Kathmandu. It's a dance. See, you share the streets with rickshaws and motor-bikes and -cycles and bicycles and cars and trucks and these weird generator trike haulers and cows and dogs sleeping and ambling randomly and pedestrians and beggars and merchants and the trash left from the trash strike and dirty water tossed from the floors above. The streets are barely wide enough for one lane of regular traffic, much less all that traffic going two ways and the left-hand drivers, and so you're constantly ON and pivoting and dodging and weaving. You've got to be acutely aware of the space you inhabit, how you move and what's coming at you next, visually, aurally, physically. With a nod and a namaste or a no and a dodge, or a twist of the hip to avoid getting nicked by that side mirror approaching rapidly.

And the whole time, there's eye contact and a balancing hand and the quick silent negotiation of you go this way and I'll go that GO NOW

I loved going out into the streets and joining that dance.

And now I'm going to go to Home Despot and buy some dirt and plants and door mats.

Possibly of interest: Someone I know is doing the Mongol Rally, a crazy drive from London to Mongolia. Her team is blogging here: [link]