It's Better in Wyoming.

What a day! 60s in Laramie, clear skies, everybody out in the shorts and flip-flops enjoying a day that felt not like spring but like summer here. I decided to go up to the Snowies and try to get a hike in on the North Fork loop. My feet almost froze: I kept sinking into 18-inch snowbanks that still hadn't melted off. My pants got soaked up to my knees. But it was absolutely awesome. I walked up to the open field on the east side of the creek, up where I always hope to see a moose, sat on a fallen log and ate my apple, and then headed back down the trail. I was surprised to find another guy coming up on my way down; he agreed with me that it was a great day. When I got back to the house I showered up and took a nap. Not too productive a day, but refreshing. I feel more awake now than I have in weeks. Months, maybe.

So I offered some Sleepytime Extra to me roommate and she says she got the worst night's sleep of her life. I, on the other hand, slept pretty well on both nights that I've had a cup before turning in. Today I got a massage, a follow-up from the one I had three weeks ago. The lady is amazing: I can't believe how good my back feels right now. I feel relaxed and full of energy. Tomorrow I'm going hiking! And right now I'm headed home to have a cookie bar! Man, this week is looking up!

My friend sent me an email today with this ad for a new drug that's storming the nation: All I wanna know is: Where can I get my prescription filled? In other related news, I learned that Albertson's sells Celestial Seasonings Sleepy Time EXTRA, which is sooped up with valerian, an herb, according to the box, that is "a folklore favorite used for centuries to soothe the mind and body at bedtime [and] promote extra fast, restful, natural sleep." I had some last night before bed. And slept the whole night through, gentle like a baby. It tastes good too!

I've got some things to say tonight, but I'm not sure I can string them together with much coherence. So I'm not going to worry about it. I went to the celebration event for the Cowgirls' WNIT championship victory tonight. I guess that's what you call it, anyway. Remember the Cowgirls' big win? Yeah, that was like three weeks ago. Maybe more! A while ago, is what I'm saying. So now, on a Monday night long after the 15,000 came and cheered and did the wave in support of the home team, a mere 500 fans (I'm being optimistic ) came out to recognize the impact of the girls' big dance. Including me, though I'm not sure why. I don't like watching the State of the Union Address, and this was sort of the same: people stand up at the podium, talk about how great they are, blow smoke about how great the audience is, then there's a bunch of cheering and clapping. Lather, rinse, repeat. One thing, though, was that the speakers kept talking

So my friend Dave rolls out to West Virginia tomorrow morning, to begin his new job. He came over for dinner last night, banana pancakes, deer sausage, and some crispy crowns. It feels sort of odd to say goodbye but necessary too. I got him Ed Abbey's collection of essays, "Down the River." And in some ways that feels like a pretty decent metaphor for friendships these days--that they're part of the current, never quite the same, always moving and shifting. Sometimes our lives get pooled up together--we have the opportunity to enjoy friendships in relative peacefulness--and sometimes we ride the rapids together, through the turbulent times. And sometimes we get separated, pushed back into isolation around this island or diverted into some canal. 'Goodbye' seems like a funny thing to say, because we're still riding the same river, and our paths will cross again. In other, less reflective news, I like breakfast for dinner. Pancakes, waffles, french

So a few weeks ago I responded to a posting on the campus classifieds, a woman from Riverton who needed to be on campus for summer and fall and who was looking for a place to stay during that time. The living situation she'd intended to have ended up falling through, she got the shaft, and was looking to find something, quick, that would work. It sounded like a pretty good situation for me, I thought, so I emailed her so that I could ensure I'd have help with rent through summer and fall. She came down to check the place out (with her husband), and indicated that she was definitely up for sharing the place with me. In the meantime I haven't been looking around for other rentals or roommates. Tonight I got an email from the woman, saying she's sorry but she's got something else lined up that is going to work better for her. How she's sorry and all, but it's a perfect situation and thanks anyway. After I've already talked to the landlord about puttin

I bought a springform pan last night. In general I'm a minimalist when it comes to cooking and baking--not a big fan of recipes that require special equipment. But I'll making an exception when it comes to cheesecake. (I'm sure that, in a pinch, it would be possible to make do with less than a springform. Of course.) I don't know why I'm so excited about building a cheesecake, but I sure am. Personally, I think that big cracks in the top of a cheesecake are a sign of success. Because the cracks make it obvious: this thing is for real, not some outta-the-box b.s. that is designed to look fancy but really tastes like cold cardboard and has the consistency of crystalized ice cream. About the VT shootings: see my earlier posting . I think I cover my feelings adequately there. Except I should also say, I hate the media coverage during the first half-day after 'breaking news' happens, because the stations really don't have much new to add to the coverage, but

So I just back from church, and I definitely have to say that change is in the air. On the walk to church this morning, I feel a warmth in the air that's not been there before. Spring is here. At the corner of 8th and Kearney a lady was out in her yard, cleaning out the old and making room for the new. I may go back by and ask if I can raid her flower beds--she's got some cool looking stuff that's coming back from last year. Lambs ear, sedum, and bulby stuff, daffodils and such. Last night I pulled out the crapgrass that's growing in the little flowerbed in front of the house. I'm thinking about throwing a seed mix in the back yard, there's not enough grass back there to call it a lawn, but maybe some wildflowers would take. Or, maybe that'd be a ridiculous idea. I think that Megan, the girl next to me at church, hit the nail on the head this morning. The lesson was about whether anything is beyond God's power. Her comment was, We know that nothing is be

Note: it's spelled 'Vedauwoo.' I misspelled it long ago on this post but find that people find their way to my blog accidentally this way, so I'm leaving it. But, since I'm hoping you'll visit this amazing landscape: here's a decent, quick overview of the place, with a basic map and some pics. And here's my endorsement: it's a cool place. Here's just a piece of Vedauwoo on that foggy frosty morning . In completely unrelated news: Right now CMT's playing the video for Jimmy Buffett's "Bama Breeze"--a tribute song to the businesses that got wiped out in Katrina. I like the song and the video, and the hope for rebuilding: At The Bama Breeze You're one of our own down there You never drink alone down there Good God I feel at home down there At The Bama Breeze You can drink some beer down there Argue laugh and cheer down there Pass another year down there Second set the owner LuLu Gets up with the band A beer in her hand

Well, this weekend made up for last. Metaphorically, at least. If last weekend felt like a continuation of the cold of winter, this weekend felt like new life. Thursday night I drove to George's folks' place in Gurley, hoping that the weather would be good enough on Friday morning to plant trees. But, Friday morning dawned cold and snowy, and George was short of a couple species, which he couldn't pick up until later that afternoon. So we spent Friday cleaning up limbs and bark and tumbleweeds around a windrow George had cut down for a neighbor, and then we lit them up. Fire is hot. Friday afternoon picked up the rest of the trees. The sun on Saturday came up in a cloudless sky, cool and a little breezy, but a good day that felt like spring. The new neighbor came over, and George's brother helped out, and between the four of us we planted a couple hundred trees in about four hours. Sloppy joes for lunch, and chips and Mt. Dew and cake, and then back on the road to Laram

The elk stew I made yesterday may be the best pot of soup I've ever made. I think I once made a potato corn chowder with bacon that was pretty good--really the only competition to the stew I made last night. As always, I never work from a recipe, so it's hard to say what I did right. A can of pinto beans, a can of green beans, a can of corn, a can of diced tomatoes. Two turnips, a potato, a tablespoon of minced garlic, two carrots. A beer. I prepared the elk on Tuesday night, by searing it in some olive oil with a good dose of salt and pepper. Water to cover. Then some chicken bouillon , basil, rosemary, dill, more salt, more pepper. Cook it til the vegetables are tender. Simple, healthy, and delicious. My kind of dinner. This is in opposition to my roommate Jill's kind of dinner. She also goes for simple, healthy, and delicious: Lean Cuisine. She probably thinks I'm crazy for taking so much time to prepare dinner; she can unbox it, heat it, and eat it in th

So I suppose that maybe I've always liked books because they offer some chance to get out of this world. But I've never really thought of my reading as escapist until last night I started the Chronicles of Narnia, hoping that it would be engaging enough to make me forget, for the moment, the depressing pessimism and the sense of futility that's settled upon me. So far, the plan is working. Digory and Polly are in the wood, trying to decide which world to go to next. Before their trip, Digory's uncle says, "Knowledge is never gained without some sacrifice." The story feels oddly familiar. (Of course, Dig's uncle says this as he tries to justify blowing up guinea pigs in his magic experiments. So I think that maybe old C.S. is being a bit critical of the idea that new learning must always come with pain to self or others. I'm not sure whether I'm inclined to agree or not, at this point.)

I thought it would be spring by now: new growth, the circle of life coming back round to the phase of birth and rebirth, carbon dioxide and oxygen exchanging in balanced harmony. A sense of warmth and peace and oneness. The tulips at my sister's place got totally destroyed by the frost. The buds were almost ready to open, but the cold went all the way through, leaving the leaves darkened and limp. Nipped in the bud, as they say. A half-inch of hoarfrost at Veedauwoo when I went up Saturday morning. Incredibly beautiful, yes. Conducive to new life, no. There's so much that IS being renewed in me. But this week has been another of those hard frosts, and the unbearable weight of winter and loss leaves me shivering. On a happier note, one reason it's better in Wyoming: at Veedauwoo I had the entire trail to myself. I didn't see one other person on the entire Turtle Rock loop. And not just because the morning was thick with fog, either: Mine were the only tracks in