Fish

Here I sit, making typo after typo. We had a good day. I went for a run after Amy stretched my spine and popped that one little tiny bugger that had caused the crick these two days. Man, I am tired of being sick or injured. After a year of plantar fasciaitis, it is good to have only minor hurts, but still. I want to be in shape. I was almost there before February stated, then came a back injury, and a cold, then the crick.
I went for a run today. I felt good cardio-wise, but my legs have lost their snap. And I applied for the track job…again. I am not sure that I want it, but then it would be nice to have the money, and I like to work with kids, especially with running. If I don’t get the job, then I will run out there sometimes, especially on Wednesdays, and then do some more horse shoeing (trimming mostly) with Monte.
I want to write down a few snatches of things that might be relevant: Lonely barns, that barn, tin buckets on fence posts, mourning doves in elm trees, rain on late winter weekends, bland sunsets in late February, the River, dang, always the River.
When my mom lived on Serpentine, sometimes I would look out at the river and see a cacophony of fishes. I assume that it was fish. I always wanted to rush down to the river to see what was happening out there to cause such thrashing and turbulence, but of course, as I knew then, I would not be able to get down there quickly enough, nor did I have a boat. I wonder at what they were doing.