But the keys do feel nice under my fingers. Something will eventually develop.
I just got back from the Canebrake. Some dude I like flew in from England and we had ourselves a mini vacay. Spent 2 days out there. Caught a couple of yoga classes, which were lovely. It's a beautiful space. Go look at their website and be jealous - www.thecanebrake.com - then go out there and see for yourself.
One warning - should you find yourself arriving on a Tuesday night when the restaurant is closed and you haven't had dinner, you may as well save yourself some time and trouble and just go straight to the Wagoner Wal-Mart, where you can pick up some supplies to have yourself a bed picnic. None of the restaurants in town will be open, leaving Wal-Mart and fast food as your only options. Not that I am complaining! Salads and picnicky things can be found in abundance at Wal-Mart, and back in the privacy of your very own room, you and your darling-dearest can feed each other bits of things and kiss and coo to your little heart's content without drawing stares or stinkeyes from anybody. If you're into that sort of thing. Which we're not, me and that dude I like. We never have been.
We watched a documentary on Badwater while eating our picnic - I know how to bring the romance. Nothing says tenderness like watching runners lance their blisters and puke on the side of the road, right? For the record, I could not watch the blister-lancing. I could not even listen to it. Anyway, the documentary is called Running on the Sun and I recommend giving it a watch. I surreptitiously cried four times during our screening. That's four thumbs up.
We managed to get a run in - Eddie took pictures, but I failed to consider copying them for blogging purposes. No pictures were taken of the most important thing that happened - we saw a fox! He was big and fast and maybe a girl. I don't know, we didn't get very close to him/her, just saw him/her take off across a ridge away from us.
Before we saw the fox, we saw many whitetail deer, which is always exciting to me because I grew up with mule deer, an ugly cousin to the whitetail. I'm surprised mule deer don't moo. Whitetails, by comparison, are lovely and delicate and bouncy, flashing their little white tails like sassy little minxes as they vanish into the forest. One stopped at the edge of the ridge, looking down into the riverbed we were following. She looked back at us for a long time while Eddie took pictures of her. She finally decided we were of no consequence and flounced away, waving her bottom at us.
Before we saw the deer, we saw 3 buzzards! Are those turkey vultures? What are buzzards, anyway? Eddie didn't think long about it when I asked, just said he recognized a carrion eater when he saw one. I thought that was well put. I think it applies to people as well as animals. Not that I'm speaking disparagingly about the buzzards. They were lovely in their own way. In a sort of dark and unsettling way, sly eyes checking us for doneness, reminding us that we're bouncing along through the woods with our shoes and our digital watches strapped to bodies made of food for something else should our number come up. Hunched over in a gossipy little trio, they regarded us suspiciously and I wondered what the meal we had disturbed used to be.
After all the animals that came out to be sighted had been duly noted, we finished our run and spent the rest of the day napping and snacking in our room. I totally overslept and missed the evening yoga class.
Can you believe it's March already?
This weekend, Little Rock! Coming soon, Miami!
Oh, I totally ran Post Oak last weekend with my sister and I should probably blog about that before I forget how much fun it was. But right now it's past my bedtime. Remind me to talk about dinner later - the Canebrake does it right. Good night, dear hearts!