February 28, 1998

Cherry Blossoms

The cherry and plum trees are blooming now. Just this last week I started to notice them. Great clouds of pink and white with the flower within a flower in each blossom. Translucent, delicate, lovely, and so fleetingly beautiful. They'll be done in a few weeks, and are here now, in the end of February when I usually still think it ought to be winter.

The blossoms nearly always stand for spring for me, and are usually weighted with the myth of Japanese mythos behind them. I mean, I don't really know how the Japanese feel about the cherry blossoms, though I have always had hints of their beauty and impermanence. Grace and quick withering, spring and the reminder of winter still in the air.

Poetry in existence.

There's one wild plum tree that stand by the dirt track we fondly call a driveway and it's just starting to bloom, when it is in full bloom it will be a cloud of white raining soft petals onto the Series I truck. A few months later it will be raining ripe tiny plums of gold the size of giant cherries. I guess that here in this house, on this land the seasons are as close to me as my skin.

Remind me that going to soccer games while my leg and knee are bad isn't any good for me. I get sarcastic really fast especially when the opposing team really makes me want to either yell or beat them over the head with the stupidity of their game. It was that white team that just never passes to anyone. They have two star player that just never pass, they hog it and hog it and think that if they hog it some more then they'll win. One of them had a *FOUR ON ONE* against a lone defender that hadn't even played all that much before, and the idiot shot it right into the defender. I had to go and do a knee bending exercise to generate enough pain so that I just didn't scream at the guy.

I just laughed a lot instead. John said afterwards that it really amused him to hear me chirping in laughter every time one of their hogs screwed up, and their own team gave a half-hearted cheer when I just couldn't hold it in one time and yelled, "At least *THINK* about passing!"

I am not a good spectator.

At least all the pacing about and ranting and raving kept me warm. It was nippy out last night and I had long underware on as well as my trenchcoat and wooly socks that worked pretty well. That was good. John and I also went to the Admiralty Thriftway afterwards and we finally shopped for our empty refrigerator. That was fun. It also closed the circle, completely on the history of the last trip. We did everything and so laid a few ghosts to sleep as nothing bad happened.

I cooked cheerfully last night, did a pork roast and some yams to go with them, boiled the spring asparagus for just a minute and then put them on the plates, and they were perfect when we got around to eating them. There was a lovely potato, sourdough bread with just enough dill in it to make it rich and redolent with the scent. Ate more vegetables and bread than I did meat, honestly, and there was a nice dried cranberry stuffing in the midst of the roast, so that worked out really well.

The exercises that the physical therapist gave me were really good. I'm improving dramatically in just the days that I've been doing them, and my knee beds better and straightens more now than it has in a while. That's been useful for stairs, bikes and everything. The best thing is that I seem to be able to do them anywhere and everywhere and at any time. So the improvements keep coming. One bad thing about them is that now that my leg straightens more is that I can feel the upper part of my leg sliding over the lower part when the leg is at full extension. It feels awful when it does that. It also is making me relapse a bit, because having the leg bent a bit seems to keep control over that; but when I'm conscious of that I'm trying not to do that because it's so bad for the bones of the joint to hit at the wrong angle.

So it's a conscious mind thing over the unconscious need for control, and it's an interesting fight.

One cool thing is that one latish night when I was at work Ray rambled over asking for a server name for the new mail server. We had Venus so I said, how about Mercury? Oh... no collisions with Data I/O names, so how about Hermes? He wanted something that everyone in the group could remember and spell. Ah. Uhm... well 'angel' means messenger. Oh. Okay. I know that I secretly had wanted to suggest 'ofanim' but knew that it would cause even more problems than Hermes. So angel it became. The main backup server that we were all going to back everything up on was supposed to come in on Thursday, but didn't. So angel saved all our butts by working over time as the disk server for everyone's backup.

So the name came true, in many ways. Angel helped us out in a bind.

That was cool.

Been thinking about Lent, and I've gone back to something that I gave up years ago, when I needed to. Two years ago I think I gave up procrastination for Lent. Sweeter than chocolate, easier than sex, and more fattening to the soul than a filet mignon.

I'm not sure, yet what I'm giving up for Lent this year, but I have a feeling that it's going to be along those lines. Maybe it's going to have to be fear. To really not let it have its way with me, with this knee thing. Fear of pain, fear of the unknown, fear of having to depend on another's expertise and knowledge.

Finally found out that two of the people that I'd gone to for references really *had* recommended the same doctor, one Dr. Thayer that works on the east side and specializes in ACL injuries. Who also recommends a specific Physical Therapy clinic that Jeff really had good luck with, so I may well go with them. That would be good as I really do trust Jeff's judgement in the realm of sports things, and the other referal was Dr. Knight's office, and they do a very large percentage of the knee injuries that come into the Eastside Group Health hospital. Dr. Thayer is also affiliated with Overlake Hospital, which has a good reputation as well. So that makes me feel a bit better.

All in all it's just time for me to stop being afraid and just do again.

Man, after watching just that one game I *ache* to get back into it again, to play again. Up 'til now I've been denying that a lot, saying that soccer isn't really my life, that I could get by just fine without it. Just as easily give up Fezzik or John. Both possible, but not something that isn't going to hurt like hell. I think that some of it was that I was trying to get ready for the possibility that I might have to give it up so could get pretty nonchalant about it.

After last night, I don't think I can afford to be nonchalant about it anymore.

© 1998 by Liralen Li.

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