Skip to main content

Spinach: Roll of thunder, hear my self-pitying sniffles.


Have you ever watched a storm roll in, caught that exact first breath of strange new air, seen the dust whip into tiny tornadoes and the clouds turn from purple to yellow to grey?  

Have you ever stood outside in awe, particles of dirt swimming in your teary eyes, hair on end, one foot pointed backward toward the nearest sturdy building?  

Have you ever seen the sheet of rain advancing, a solid wall of clear water, colored by the darkness of the sky?  

Have you ever realized that your car windows were open?  

And that you’d left your windows open at home that morning?  

And that your gutter was already clogged and doing a fine job of ushering even the lightest of drizzles straight into your slowly warping basement walls?  

Not to steal the trademark line of a famous radio personality, but...I have.  
(Sue me, NPR)

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Noodles: It’s autumn, all of you.

Hi world.  It’s me, your favorite super sheltered, extremely Scandinavian, strangely endearing pile of soggy, tomato-drenched crinkly noodles! Otherwise known as Baby Swedish Lasagna under an Inadequate Tent. The reason I bring up my origins is this: I grew up without hearing anyone say “y’all”.  I believe the contraction never crossed my path outside of a book until middle school, when it became trendy among my equally sheltered, pale-skinned friends. I started saying it often, with little understanding of its pronunciation, spelling, or proper usage. At some point, perhaps in a fit of cultural sensitivity, maybe after the madness of middle school had seeped out of my neurons, I stopped using it. Except in emails. Yes, my friends, I am an email y’aller.  It just works for the already-awkward group conversations.  There’s honestly no equivalent in northern dialect.  Check it out. “You guys.”  Offensive to feminists. “You girls.”  Offensive...
4 comments
Read more

Noodles: Just another downside of being a genius.

Since I’ve got a pretty long post in store for you a little later this week (and yeah, it’s Saturday, I know...so that means in about five minutes), I’m gonna make this quick and just share with you one of my finer moments.  Possibly the most brilliant highlight of my entire career as a human, if I may say so.   Recently I was trying to center a picture on what was supposed to be today’s post.  Suddenly, my cursor...is that what the little vertical blinky line is called?  If it is, wow, what an intense name for such an innocent little thingy.  Anyway, you all know what I mean.  We’ll just call it the cursor and hope for the best.  Kay.  So, my cursor started moving.  It was traveling across the page all alone!  It had a mind of its own!  Because I’m super suspicious, my first thought was that someone had hacked my computer, since I was in a pretty crowded public place.  There were some nerdy guys in the corner who looked cap...
Post a Comment
Read more

Noodles: A lovelie story.

I learned how to lie when I was seven years old.  There was a boy in my class who I hated. I’m not a name dropper, so I’ll just call him...“Jeremy”.   “Seven years old!” You say, aghast, “and you already hated someone?   Whatever for?”   I’d love to give you a great answer, but it was probably for a very inconsequential reason.   Possibly because he’d apparently made it his goal to throw a huge ball straight at my curly side-lined head every time all the kids except me played dodgeball (I remember sitting to the side and trying to convince teachers that no, I really did not feel left out, and no, joining the game would not make me feel better).    Or maybe it was because he liked to dip goldfish crackers in Koolaid.    Or maybe I took a random dislike to his haircut.    Whatever reason, just trust me.   I really hated this kid.    He made my upper epidermal layer do unnatural things, like crawl.   ...
1 comment
Read more