ramblings

I think it's only fair to let you know up front this blog post has absolutely nothing to say. In case you don't want to waste the next 6 minutes of your life, run away now. This is why I am rambling:

This was the first thing I saw this morning. The only time that I like to see those numbers on the clock when it's dark outside is if I'm going hunting, leaving on a road trip, or giving birth. Otherwise, this is not a good thing. No, scratch that last thing.  Only hunting and traveling are worth getting up for this early.

Need.    more.    Coffee.

Fighting.   through... the.    Fog.


I don't know why I woke up at such an ungodly hour, but I know that every time I think about it today I will get tired. Even if I get a whole lot of things done and nobody's grumpy all day, in the back of my mind will be the thought of those red numbers, glowing in the dark.

Laughing at me.  You.   Can't.   Go.   Back.. to...   sleep.

And I had such good dreams, too.  About pumpkins.  And cat-eating pumpkins. And pumpkins watching me...

Wait a minute. This may have something to do with what the Whee 'n me did before bed last night. We played with the fondant. Isn't that what everyone does when they get bored?  Get out the fondant and manipulate it?

Amazingly cute, sugar paste pumpkins and cats.  Instant decor, instant sugar high if you're foolish enough to eat them. I was fine until I turned around and one of them had sprouted eyes. It was watching me.  I can't eat something that's watching me eat it.

And then I couldn't even eat the ones without eyes because I know the eye-balled one will know. This is unfortunate, because the sugar rush would go well with the caffeine pump.

I'm unplugging the clock tonight.

The Leap of a Lifetime

I did it.  I rapelled.  I dropped myself over the edge of a tall cliff, suspended by ropes, and leveraged myself down the face of the cliff.  It was exhilarating.  It was awesome.  It was life-changing.  I want bigger cliffs.

This is Susan, our instructor.  Susan has already done more in her 26 years than most people do in an entire lifetime. She's my guru, my inspiration, my hero. Susan has never lost anyone over a cliff, dropped them from their harness, or misplaced them in a cave, all of which are good things if you're the instructor.

This is Susan's face when you step on her climbing ropes. Apparently, it's very bad for the ropes for them to be stepped on and impregnated with tiny gravels and such, and very bad for the climber if the ropes break because they were grimed up by some inconsiderate or oblivious person. This is the 'oh my dear lord' look Susan will give you when she has already told you to "Stay off the dang ropes!"  and you step on them again.  Fortunately I was only the observer of this face, not the recipient.

This is Susan telling us we get five chances to get this right.  No, not really, you only get that one chance and then you're hanging upside down or ricocheting off the face of the cliff.  She's demonstrating what to do with your hands as you go down.

...and how that first step is not really such a big deal if you don't look behind you, and how your belay person holding your safety line is someone you can really trust.  Even if they snored all night long in the tent next to you and look really tired. It's ok, really.

So the belay person did a great job, Susan did a great job, I made the descent without a hitch, and now I'm a convert. I'm off to search out the highest, sheerest cliff I can find on these plains.  And a belay person who's had plenty of coffee!