I’m embarking on a project that will make it difficult to do a check-in these next few weeks. But I’ll be back with a full report—or, at least, an update.
In the meantime, I hope March is tiptoeing out like a lamb wherever you are—rather than the rather rude lion we have here today.
I stepped outside this morning, dogs tugging on their leashes. A light rain had washed everything overnight. And there, on the back deck, it smelled like spring—if only for a moment.
Then, the dogs pulled me down the steps and into the mud.
But I feel like spring is here, even if it has been chilly, even if we do end up with more snow. I always feel like I’m waiting for the March equinox, which also happens to be the day of the Persian New Year.
To me, it feels like the new year. Being this far north, I sometimes think we should forget about January and February and hibernate until the equinox. Yes, we’ll probably get more snow, but it isn’t going to last. And on the other side is that wonderful halo of green that the trees will soon wear.
That gives me energy; that gives me hope.
Happy Spring and Happy Nowruz!
We had a lovely week of false spring, topping out at 72 degrees or so. Now, of course, it’s 18 degrees, but at least it’s sunny today. But while it was warm, I took long walks and went out and about in that extra hour of sunshine. Lots of other people were out as well, and we all seemed very happy, tipping our faces toward the sun and letting out a long breath.
Spring in Minnesota is like that.
I also went down several research rabbit holes this week and decided to pick up with language learning again. Low-key, self-paced language learning, which I’m finding I enjoy a lot more than the classroom setting (whether in real life or online).
I decided on Italian (for reasons), and I’m using Duolingo, supplemented by a grammar book and the podcast Coffee Break Italian. It helps that I’ve already studied German, Russian, and a little French. So my brain understands things like: oh, irregular verb, or oh, that’s the plural, without much conscious thought.
Yes, this makes learning a new language easier. It’s also nice to use this part of my brain again. It’s like it’s also waking up along with spring.
This week, Tuesday morning:
This week, Wednesday morning:
There’s still snow on the ground, but the roads are clear and dry enough for walking. And most importantly? No patches of ice. And while there’s a wintery mix in our future for Saturday, this week looks amazing for walking. I’m planning on doing a lot.
Also? Daylight Saving Time. I used to hate losing that extra hour of sleep, but now I’m so grateful to have more sunshine later in the day that I don’t mind so much.
In writing, I worked on those debriefing transcripts I mentioned last week. It’s almost like I’m a fly on the wall, listening in. (I mean, assuming flies care about eavesdropping and not simply their next meal.) There are plot points I need to address. But I also want these conversations to unfold naturally, depending on who’s doing the debriefing.
In other news, I have embarked on spring cleaning. Wish me luck.
Hey, everyone. I have a book (Must Love Ghosts) in this promo, narrated by the incomparable Amy McFadden.
If you’re looking for something to listen to during a trip this spring or need a binge-listen for some spring cleaning (my favorite, not the cleaning so much as the listening), then check out the books listed in this Science Fiction and Fantasy promotion.
One caveat: Audible prices may not be under $10. Unfortunately, the author doesn’t control the retail price there. Essentially, you suggest a price, Audible looks at it, laughs, and then sets its own.
I went on another art adventure this week, this time to the Minneapolis Institute of Art. It’s been ages since I’ve been, and I really need to go again later in the year. I want to revisit the Otto Dix War Portfolio before it leaves in August.
For some reason, this painting by Eugene-Louis Boudin caught my eye, so I went in for a closer look. It’s called Vacationers on the Beach at Trouville. It is also the first painting purchased by the MIA after it opened in 1915.
This Van Gogh. That’s all. This Van Gogh.
Also, apparently, the MIA thought I was in the market for a new writing desk because they kept offering up a variety of options:
In writing-related news (without a fancy new desk), I’ve been working on that second plotline for The Marigold Miracle. Some of the scenes are actually debriefing transcripts, so they’re dialogue-heavy with some sound effects. They’ve been challenging and fun to write.
Writing Wrongs 