Spring Fever

I know it’s not officially spring yet, but the last few days have sure felt like it. Spring is officially here when I spot the first bare navel on campus, and that hasn’t happened yet. (Philosophers might question whether there was one that was unseen, and if somebody else saw it, whether it would be spring for that person, but that’s as futile as questioning which groundhog needs to see his shadow). Anyway, since this brief spell of climatic ecstasy is predicted to end soon, I’ve been enjoying it while it lasts.

Sunday, of course, was an afternoon of hunting. Or maybe I should say an afternoon of trail riding. Weather conditions weren’t very good for scent, which was probably just as well, because it was too warm for any furious chases. But it was a very pleasant day to be out wandering around behind the dawgs.

Today I decided I had to come home after work and putz around outside, blowing off other possible time sinks. I’d actually been planning to go to the gym after work, but it never takes much to make me abandon that plan. Some local activists were discussing an impromptu protest of the US involvement of the Haiti coup, but since nobody seems to really know just what really happened down there, my conscience didn’t compel me to stand on a street corner protesting it. The Blood Center called whining about a teenager with open-heart surgery who was using massive quantities of O Neg, but they keep rejecting me for low iron after begging me to come in, so I decided I’d have a better shot at actually giving blood in the morning, if the kid hangs on that long.

So what did I end up doing that was more important than all the above? Actually nothing important or exciting, but the key word was outdoors. I really just killed time with the beasts, feeding, grooming, etc., and soaking up sunshine.

I also decided it was time to change the assortment of bumper stickers on the back of my car. Since it looks like there’s really not much chance of impeaching King George before November, I decided to give more emphasis to the electoral solution. So the “IMPEACHMENT: It’s not just for consensual sex anymore” sticker came off to yield its space to a new “Lick Bush 04” sticker.
The “Lick Bush” sticker that had been on there since last year came off last month to make room for a Chandler sticker. I actually regretted that decision on Election Day; the Chandler sticker was a winner, but I should have picked a different one to sacrifice for it. When I pulled into the parking lot at the polling place, a couple of lesbians pulled in behind me and complimented me on the assortment of stickers. Even though one had been my friend Kris‘s boss at the Nature Preserves Commission, and we’ve been allied in some recent zoning battles, I still wasn’t sure I could get away with telling them they would really love the sticker that used to be there. But I would have enjoyed a politically incorrect silent chuckle watching them read it.

Now that the Congressional election is over (and we won!!!), I suppose the Chandler sticker could come off too. But I think I’ll leave it on a little longer for gloating purposes; I’m on the winning side so seldom that I can’t resist a little boast.

Now I’m looking at the weather forecasts predicting an impending damper on our brief interlude of spring-like weather, and tryng to decide whether hunting tomorrow is worth the risk of getting rained on. At this point, it’s still a tossup. I might take another look at the forecast in the morning to see if it’s any more decisive. If I do decide to hunt, I guess that kid will just have to wait another day for his blood, but at least it will have some invigorating residual traces of Van Winkle.

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