No Bias In Regards to Age

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“It’s spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you’ve got it, you want—oh, you don’t quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!”  ~  Mark Twain

Notes: the opening photo shows Jicarilla Peak out yonder in the Pecos Wilderness, as seen from the mesa north of town. The little ridge front and center is one where I did a lot of hiking in my first years in Taos. You can see part of the Town of Taos as well. The opening quotes is from, I believe, Tom Sawyer. It was Huck Finn who said it. Yeh, I just googled it; Mr. Trump make note. It only took me less than a minute. Now, moving forward. That Spring Fever, however prominent, is buried under the weight of out national political and social malaise. The Resistance movement is encouraging whereas the existence is not. There ya have it. I’ve got it bad. I check Huffington Post for news flashes, on break and at lunch, while at work. The good chance that these checks might reveal something important, and possibly even shocking, is a major disturbance in itself. Makes me feel like I need a shower, which I do actually, and I’ll get to it right after I finish this post, k? Don’t even try it. Wink, wink. Yeh, I’m feeling kinda cranky this morning. Boy howdy am I ever! But I’ll slip into my social costume when I clock in for my day shift.

I get so much fulfillment at work, in part because the mood in the hardware store is almost always warm and laced with humorous banter. A lot of laughs are heard. I mean, peeps are fixing things, building things. And selling things. Helping people with a professional proficiency. I enjoy it. And the multicultural tone of the day is nourishment for the soul as well. I am a lucky man indeed to be there 32 hours a week. And I work with good people. Another thing I’ve got bad is that thing Brother Huck was reckoning about. Seems ta me that Tom’s Aunt Polly wrapped him up in bed sheets to help him sweat it out. I ain’t goin there. Although I reckon staying home and cocooning don’t sound so really bad neither. When I get Spring fever the introvert that makes up so much of my inner subjective self is often known for going: “but .  .  .  but  .  .  .  but  .  .  .”. Suck it up, snowflake. Now, I’m goin’ to step outside then come back in to finish this here blog post. Busy backson.

Temperature again hovering right at zero. The lavender hour failed to show today. The lavender hour is my own designation for when the penumbral caress from the Sun first crosses Taos Valley, and the whole place takes on the hue of lavender. Right pretty it is. The cat is sacked out and dreaming, in her bed, just to the right of my computer chair. Well, ummmm, it’s not really a chair as such, but never mind that. I’m an emotional good-mess this morning. I reckon it’s biological, genetic, whatever, in nature. Who knows, right. It is interesting to note that Spring fever holds no bias in regards to age. Feels pretty good, actually. That said I am headed for the shower, right after I review and edit this post.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.

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