So, let me start out by saying that this is the time of year I always hated passionately when I was in school. April.
Kids are mean on a good day. They find the weak ones and peck them nearly to death. Kids weren’t a whole lot less mean a hundred years ago when I was in school. They still picked on people, they still found the week and painted their own target on them. Having the name April was kind of a ready made paint by number for the target. All they had to do was fill in the spaces with color.
There is irony in the fact that I’m sitting here, this evening, watching the yard fill up with snow. April Showers, I think, are supposed to be rain, not snow. Tonight, with the echos of April Fools… April Showers… and Ape Face echoing through my brain, I watch April Showers fill my yard with white.
It’s been a quiet week in Lake Woebegone… no wait… strike that… This is Ohio not Minnesota and I’m totally not Garrison Keillor. But it’s been quite a week any way.
It’s April. NaPoWriMo (national poetry writing month) and once again I’m striving for a poem a day. TECHNICALLY I’m striving for a poem a day for a whole year (but I’ve already missed the entire week I felt crappy) but for a change I’m not taking the setback as a failure. We are five days in. Four of the days I’ve already posted. Today I’m still kind of deep in thought.
And still it snows. I keep trying to justify this with global warming. It’s not quite making it in my head. The walk to work from the car will be just about 20 degrees again. I’m hoping for pretty colors on the Tower City Center tower or at least a boat. I’m betting not… but hey… since the Indian’s game got snowed out yesterday maybe they will light up the tower again today.
A Figment Of Fitness 