Writer's Block: It's cold outside

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Anything below freezing, basically. Anything below 50F for a high by this time of year (we've been having one of the coldest springs on record this year [sigh]). Anything below 60 for a high in the summertime.

Any time it frosts after March 30th or before Halloween [g].

I live near Seattle. I used to live in the Midwest and tolerate much greater ranges of temperature (although I complained more about the heat and humidity in the summer than the cold in the winter), but after almost eighteen years here, my tolerance for wild temperature ranges has decreased dramatically.

never mind

Given what I've been reading about Russia, free speech, and LJ in the last couple of days, I'm inclined to cut LJ some slack.

About three or four thousand miles worth.

I will, however, be glad when the Russian elections are over [sigh].

today

Was a very good 52nd birthday. It was the first truly sunny, reasonably warm (above 55F) day we've had here in western Washington since last fall (at least November). I drove up to Carbon River on Mt. Rainier, and wandered through the rainforest, then ate my picnic lunch and wrote for a while (working on the New Thing, which is a draft inspired by and beginning with the nightmare description I posted a while back).

Carbon River even lit birthday candles for me:





They're really skunk cabbage, but they look like birthday candles to me [g].

Then I stopped at Michael's for some embroidery thread, then I came home and dug in my garden for an hour or so. I can't say my back garden is completely devoid of dandelions and buttercups (we hates buttercups, we do, precious), but I dug up every single one I could find along with a few stray Japanese anemone sprouts (I evicted the Japanese anemone from hell four bloody years ago -- what part of no doesn't it understand???) and a couple of feverfews, which are also a self-inflicted weed, but I can't quite bring myself to get rid of it altogether. Oh, and plenty of lady's bedstraw, which is Evil Incarnate because it's got thready little roots that break off and make new plants, and because the foliage is sticky. But I did my best, and the soil smells so good.

Then I ordered a pizza. I can't remember the last time I ordered a pizza. It was delicious.

And that was my 52nd birthday. One heck of a lot better than my 49th birthday, which ended in the emergency room with a gall bladder attack...