Merry Day After Christmas. I know that some of you celebrate the full 12 days of Christmas, but for me the day after is always
slightly depressing, as I tend to prefer the anticipation more than anything. However, I am still looking forward to New Year's Eve and, of
course, to leaving grass and water out for the camels on Three Kings Day.
Before I forget, the following is my contribution from Creative Night #3, on the topic of maroon:
There once was a man from the moon
Whose heart was made of maroon
When asked why not gold
His friends they were told
That gold is stolen too soon.
There were a lot of great gifts this year. I even enjoyed making them.
And then taking photographs of them.
There was also a spectacular creative night, complete with bow wine. Not to mention lots of
baking last week. And later in the week, my
very own carolers. And then Christmas at a fabulous
friend's place and one of the best gifts I've ever received - I'm listening to it right now, in fact.
So to your and yours... happy holidays. May they be merry and bright and may you never stop striving for what is good
and right in this world.
December 20, 2005
While shepherds watch are keeping
I should be posting the results of "Creative Night #3: Now In Technicolor"; however, I'm going to hold on that for one more entry until
I have some pictures to post as well. Which translates to 'when my own computer starts connecting to the Internet again and I
can stop using my roommates' computers for everything'.
For now I just wanted to relate an incredible day to you all. I normally try to stay away from elaborating about veterinary
school and the details of my ordinary not so extraordinary life, but today was a thinker and a feeler of a day in all the little ways.
We first spent six hours driving around the Connecticut countryside (yes, Connecticut actually has a countryside! Who knew?) in our mission to seek and
destroy nonproductive corpora lutea of reproductively challenged Holstein dairy cattle and to confirm the presence of viable life in others.
Later in the
afternoon we found ourselves standing before a down, very pregnant and very distressed individual. This particular moo cow had been down (layman's term for 'I'm not
sure what's wrong with her but she can't get up now') for a few days. Diagnostics had so far been inconclusive. In using a sling to help keep her at times partially supported,
this cow had managed to somehow break her leg in a manner that was not conducive to any practical treatment beyond euthanasia.
However, there remained the manner of the nearly full-term calf. And so, I delivered my first ever calf as a veterinary student, via C-section.
And as that brilliant little heifer calf lay wet and grunting on the straw behind us, breathing in life, the cow from which she had come lay down and dying in front of us. As she slipped
peacefully away I thought about a lot of things: life and death, values, production medicine, the farming life, my future job, the not so distant future.
I'll let you know if I get any farther than thought.
December 05, 2005
Ho, ho, the mistletoe
For the second time in my life, I have my own tree. Well, it really belongs to both my housemate and me, as we'll both be home for the holidays. Here-home, not home-home. I was able to justify the money for the tree and for some lights, but not for much beyond that. And so the tree skirt is an old flannel sheet (which is quite lovely, actually) and the ornaments are all origami animals, made by yours truly. To the right are featured close-ups of a purple pig, a bird and a snail. We haven't come up with a good 'star' yet, and so our tree (whose name is Howard, I have decided) is currently topped with a Santa hat. I think Howard looks quite fetching in it, in any case.
The big test (the National Board test for Veterinary Medicine) is over and I won't know the results for another two months. And I won't really have to start looking for a job for at least the same amount of time. For these next two precious months, I am relatively worry-free regarding my future. Relatively. I'm enjoying the start of another (and my last) New England winter, the pleasure of baking Christmas goodies for my housemates, the freedom to read 'leisure' books and to entertain the idea of short stories.
I was in a slightly similar boat this time last year, done with my first two surgeries and a lot of difficult tests and not much to worry about until clinics started. And I was in a relationship that I was well aware could only last for a certain amount of time. I guess I'm all too familiar with the practice of savoring the moments, with enjoying every drop of peacefulness that the world is kind enough to give you. And not only did I have someone to be close with last year, but I also had my family to go home to for Christmas. This year I have neither and yet... I'm okay.
Maybe I'm growing my wings out a little more. I can feel them stretching from the tops of my shoulders, long plumes of white that whisper of adventure and of jumping from cliffs and of plummeting a thousand feet before snap whoosh breathe and fly.
November 23, 2005
And indeed there will be time (to wonder, "Do I dare?"...)
Just in time for Thanksgiving... gobble gobble. After I take the biggest test of my life this coming Friday, I should be posting more often (haven't we heard that one before?)
Yesterday I wrote a poem about a phenomenon I called the Blue Earth Blues. For the record, I'm not really blue, and I have no idea what the town of Blue Earth (Minnesota) is like, though the few times I've seen the sign (while driving from Iowa to Wyoming) I've imagined it to be perfect. I'm not sure why.
Regardless. I've been contemplating the notion of independence.
And dependence. How it takes so much work to really get to know and trust someone, so much energy, so much faith. The grass is always greener on the side I'm on. Right now I can't imagine, despite the occasional pangs of loneliness, getting to know someone new as more than a friend. But when I'm in a relationship, I can't imagine going back to the emotionally void land of singledom. It's a little... crazy. I'm not sure I'll ever figure it out. If you gave me the choice I suppose I'd pick the relationship, but dang, it has to be the right one and I have to really want it, or I'll slide so easily back into this independent dance that seems to characterize 90% of my life.
Well. This year I'm thankful that there's always the possibility of adventure around the next corner. Indeed, I think that the best part of life is never knowing what's going to happen next. This, I believe, is a Great Thing.
November 2, 2005
Slacker of the Year Award
...because I've really had a lot I think is worth saying, or at least thinking about, but I've failed to actually post it here. Stay tuned. In the meantime, enjoy Henry. He always makes me laugh.
Words to live by:
This is the true joy in life, the being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; the being thoroughly worn out before being thrown on the scrap heap; the being a force of nature instead of a feverish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy.
-George Bernard Shaw
