Spring Awakening...

i don't know why spring is so amazing. but i do know that it is. i also know that every sentence i type after this one is highly unlikely to be original. but i want to type them anyway.

during the winter months, i despise being outside. my bones shiver at the merest hint of a draft let indoors. if i do spend time out of doors, my lungs are tortured; the menacing cold air greedily leaps into my lungs, constricting them, burning them, pounding on my ribcage with steely fingers, leaving a trail of crystallized, foggy evidence as it escapes. my fingers and toes deceive me; going numb so passively only to burst into flames at the slightest touch of water indoors. each step outside requires effort; navigating around piles of snow and slabs of ice. even our vehicles protest the conditions...

but then comes spring. without warning; always without warning. one day is all it takes. one moment. once she has decided to return; she will. spring comes to us gently; often on a Chinook. there may be a snow shower or two after her arrival, but she merely smiles and shakes her head at Jack Frost. she's already incubating the earth in her bosom; she is strong and will prevail. her arrival is heralded by the birds first; you see something flitting in the corner of your eye; was that telephone line always so crowded? and then it's as if someone has removed cotton balls from your ears; chirping, singing, and even a squawk or two have replaced the winter soundtrack of muffled breezes. i've heard it said that the Robin is the official bearer of spring; i believe it's so. i imagine the Robin so loved her that she stretched out her finger and lightly traced his breast; ever-warming his heart to give it that brilliant red hue.

in spring nature beckons us to connect with her. the trees are awakened; their veins tingling with life. place your hand on a tree trunk and feel the movement within. the soft earth longs to be tread upon by bare feet once again. the mud squishing through your toes; the growing grass offering itself as a handy towel. the sound of water running is rampant; floods may come, but the earth's capacity to drink it in is never-ending. and should we be surprised? who isn't dehydrated after a long winter's nap?

the sun is warmer. the sun is closer. the sun says hello.

even the wind is in a better mood; blowing a satiated warm breath upon us once again.

annually i welcome spring; annually spring welcomes me.

Genesis 1: 11 ‑ 12

Then God said, "Let the land produce vegetation: seed‑bearing plants and trees on the land that bear fruit with seed in it, according to their various kinds." And it was so. The land produced vegetation: plants bearing seed according to their kinds and trees bearing fruit with seed in it according to their kinds. And God saw that it was good.

"Creative Writer" Blogger Award !!

What's this? I've won a blogger award? Yay me! {pardon the self-centered congratulations. it is my first 'win', though.} Well, here are the rules :

1. Thank the person who gave this to you. {merci beaucoup, monsieur boudreau freret! i am honored.}

2. Copy the logo and place it on your blog.

3. Link to the person who nominated you. {although it is unlikely you haven't read booger's writing; in the off-chance that you've missed out, it is high time to rectify.}

4. Tell up to six outrageous lies about yourself, and at least one outrageous truth - or - switch it around and tell six outrageous truths and one outrageous lie.

5. Nominate seven "Creative Writers" who might have fun coming up with outrageous lies, or who have outrageous truths to share.

6. Post links to the seven blogs you nominate.

7. Leave a comment on each of the blogs letting them know you nominated them.


Now for the challenge - see if you can spot the true from the false:

7. I have an extra bone in each foot. My Uncle Rick, a.k.a. "the rich one", is a podiatrist and discovered this whilst I was still fairly young. It wasn't until my later years, when dancing became a passion of mine, that I was informed the placement of these extra bones are precisely where seasoned Ballerinas form calcium deposits in order to hold that en pointe position. Essentially; I was born to be a dancer.

6. My surname is made-up. As in, belongs in the same category as that symbol Prince used to be "called." My paternal great-grandmother got her hands on some book (imagine numerology on cocaine...ok, quit imagining it now. you've had enough.) and decided that our forefathers had no business going by "Allen." "Cleigh" is much, much more ... lucky?

5. I am a descendant of the House of Stewart. (what? you don't know who they are? shame on you!) Some notables from this line: Mary, Queen of Scots, James VI/I, and me.

4. I once fell down a mountain. I was a young one, 15 years of age and on a missions trip in the Badlands of South Dakota (so called for a reason, clearly!). A group of us climbed said mountain; enjoyed the view; realized an approaching thunderstorm was a bit too close for comfort; and then began our descent. My scrawny legs couldn't support the weight of my skull (or something) and about 2/3 of the way down, gravity took over and my speedy clamber turned into a tumble through the air (oo! flying!) followed by a glamorous landing where my chest took the brunt and my dust-filling eyes were greeted by the sight of my own heels as my legs flew over my head and my feet touched the ground. Ouch.

3. I have a twin brother, Jordan. He is more commonly known as Korean, however. Not because of ethnicity. But because of T9 texting. It seems that more people find the need to type the word "korean" than "jordan." (I wonder how Michael Jordan feels about that?) Regardless, this is his new name. He lives in a town called Prairie City. In a small house. Which has obviously been dubbed! The Little House on the Prairie. Although we hated each other off and on growing up, he's now one of my best friends. Even though I call him Korean of the Little House on the Prairie.

2. My mother predicted my career choice before I was able to read. (Writer and illustrator of Children's books.) I was a bibliophile before I was even born. Once I was out in the world and could finally hold the books myself, they were my toy of choice. For hours on end I would tenderly hold a picture book in my hands and just stare at the illustrations. I would create a story for each individual page's artwork; talking for hours, creating a plot. I fought my mum's prediction all through my formative years...and then one day in college...accepted it.

1. My nickname in college was Snow White. (No, NOT because I'm freakishly pale.) We had an over-population of squirrels on-campus. 3 kinds of squirrels, actually: Red Squirrels, Gray Squirrels, and Melanistic Squirrels. Anyway, the squirrels seemed to sense my animal-loving-nature. One of them would come and sit atop my foot, and many of them would stop on the sidewalk and let me pet them. When I transferred to UNI, the name stuck, as the chipmunks abiding there would come sit next to me on the ledge outside my dorm room whenever I took my smoke breaks.

I'll give you lovelies a hint...one lie, six truths. And now to pass the torch...

Keelia Paulsen

Lindsie Blair

Kevin Atteridg

Daniel Hay

Amber GCS

Wendy Sparrow

Kipp Paulsen

cheers!