BethanyRambling

Happy, Happy

Halloween is coming!! I’m getting in the mood by listening to “Don’t fear the Reaper”, and scary movie soundtracks. Not to mention LPN and the Necromantics. “Haunted Cathouse” must be one of the finest written songs ever.

You know, the best side effect of not having a mirror in the house is the fact that I dance more. I was just boogeying in my seat, and I realized that back in the day, I would dance around, and at some point, catch a glimpse of just how silly I looked. Without a mirror, no reminder, so I just quietly look silly, and love it.

I gave away my candy today. I had bought two big bags, of the good stuff, so that I would be loved and admired on the block. Since it turns out I am heading to CA for the holidays, I didn’t need it. Which meant it would end up in my tummy very soon. So I did the right thing, and gave it to my neighbor across the street (who, by the way, is sporting another black eye, but we don’t talk about such things). I’m missing that chocolate already.

I’m in a very strange, black mood. I’ve been thinking depressing thoughts, death and finances and the like, yet I am completely cheery. I’m relishing it. It’s the perfect halloweeney mood.

Speaking of perfectly halloweeney, how about that eclipse last night? Yeah, that’s all I have to say on the subject. How about that. Eclipses are one of those things that you wander outside, look up, say, “huh, how about that”, and wander back in. In Montana, this time of the year, you wander quickly, as it’s already below freezing. Still, they’re neat.

I fly out tomorrow. My costume is packed, and waiting by the door. Tonight my brain won’t solidify long enough to make a cohesive blog, so I’ll just wish y’all a merry halloween, may lots of sugar and spooks come your way.

I don't know how to LOOVE him...

I remember, way back in junior high, sneaking my sister's musical theater albums out from her room. Andrew Lloyd Weber was a biggie back then, and she had a collection, of course. The one selection from JC Superstar was, of course, "I don't know how to love him", or IDKHTLH. Damn, that's hard to shorten. I really, really hated that song. Mostly because the lady singing it felt that she had to emphasize LOVE; she hit that word hard. Like if she didn't belt it, we would mistake it for something else. Did she say mug? She wants to rob Jesus?

Yesterday I came home to find a cute little autumnal cloth bag hanging from my door, with a snickers bar and two comic book tracts on finding Jesus. One of my favorite panels is when the angel surprises Mary with the knowledge that she is pregnant. Her surprised expression looks very much like a need to puke. Another favorite shows an old man in a black jacket and scarf (shades of Stephen King), telling his young friend,"Yes, George. He's the ONLY One who can rescue you from eternal damnation in the lake of fire."

Mmm. Anyway, I fooled them. Little did they know, I have two houses here. So I got two Snickers, and only half the message. So there.

This morning I had a little peaceful, spiritual moment. The type where you don't want to breathe, for fear of breaking the spell. I slept terribly last night, and the local siren that calls the volunteer firemen finally woke me up (the neon sign at the Frosty's caught on fire). I slogged my way to the window in the kitchen, peeked out the window, and saw that almost an inch of pure snow had been left in my backyard overnight. It was still almost completely dark; but enough light reflected off the snow under my apple tree for me to just see the shape of a young little doe, her head bent to pick at the apples I was too lazy to harvest.

I really like snow. It's neat. I suppose the novelty will wear off soon; that's part of the reason I am here, after all. I love San Francisco, and that's where I am planning on ending up, but I have this unhealthy attachment to the white stuff. I have to glut myself, and hope the enchantment fades, cause it's in short supply in the Bay Area. We'll see how that goes. When it gets all muddy and nasty and really, really, really cold, and extremities threaten to fall off... well, we'll see.

PS. I love my weather pixie, but it pisses me off that in sub-freezing weather she still looks svelte, if entirely covered. Sorry, but when it gets cold, you look like a marshmallow. That's all there is to it, and computer icons should not be exempt. Bitch.

Rambling again.

The trip to Glacier was wonderful. The mountains around here have gone all wonky with color; amazing for what looked to me like a state full of evergreens. There's aspens by the rivers and on the edges of course, but even better than those the trees that I am assuming are larches. I've mentioned I'm not so good with the botany thing, right?

These trees were masquerading as evergreens, until a few weeks ago, they suddenly started to blaze. Now there are fabulous patterns on all the hillsides. The one outside my window is green all the way up its south face, then yellow most of the way down the north, until about halfway down where it goes all spotted. Some mountains are so perfectly spotted, they look like quilts, a not-quite-random marriage of colors. Others have one yellow stripe running at a certain elevation, or a gold V where the mountain dips and rises. A few even have spots of red added into the mix, and don't even ask me what those are. The larch thing was lucky guess from my momma.

I drove north through the leaves, on backroads the whole time, the light absolutely perfect. It was bouncing off the clouds up ahead in entrancing ways, and enhancing the highlights of color on the mountains.

The clouds should have given me a warning, though. By the time I got to Glacier, it was overcast and drizzling, and halfway through it started to pour. I'm not actually sure the mountains really exist; they just ended 20 feet above my head.

That's not to say it wasn't gorgeous. It is Glacier, after all, and I managed to get all the way through on the Going-to-the-Sun (yeah, right) road. Just in time, too. It snowed that night over my camping spot in East Glacier, and the road was scheduled to close today anyway.

The night was not so much fun. The leaks that plaqued the second half of my trip have turned into a minor flood. I could actually see the water dripping in. I scrunched to the other side of the truck, and cozied up in my warm, warm sleeping bag (Ruprecht, I seem to remember naming him), and slept just fine. Except that I was parked next to a very active rail line. And I kept falling off the bed. It's been a while since it was just me and a mattess in there; I was always boxed in before, with no where else to go.

I headed home the next morning, and enjoyed the rest of my weekend by sitting on my ass and reading, knitting, painting, and being a lazy bum. It was great.

I am (still) at the armholes in my Montana sweater. I've stalled a bit. I don't know if I'm scared to tackle them (as I'm adapting the pattern quite a bit), or if I've just been busy with other projects. Which I have. I finished a mobius scarf (meant to be a shawl, but I put an extra twist in, so really it's best as a scarf now) in a lovely green Jo Sharp tweed accented with lime green mohair. The combo was odd, but I think it worked. Sorry, no pictures. Someday I'll go digital, till then, words only.

I am also almost done with a autumnal/halloweeney scarf that I just love, made with yarns from Art Fibers. It's lush. It's also the first time I've worked with any type of novelty yarn, and I have resolved never to mock the stuff again. It's freaking hard to knit with that! The only thing saving my sanity is that it's alternated with a nice wool in woodsy colors.

Aaaand... I started another sweater for a guy, and a shawl for a gift. I'm ADD girl nowadays, it seems. Speaking of, I've been doing this one thing for far too long. Must flit...

Woo hoo, Witchy Woman

Well, I finally decided on a Halloween costume. I'm being extremely original this year. I'm going to be... a witch! Okay, maybe not so original, but I've never actually been a basic warts-and-broomsticks type witch, and it'll be fun, in a reclaiming my childhood type way. It was either that, or a pretty, pretty, princess, and princess dresses don't come cheap. Not to mention the tiaras.

My decorating this year is rather minimal. I have my trusty glow-in-the-dark skeletons hanging in the entanceway, and a life-size hand, with glow-in-the-dark nails and veins, holding a candle by my front door. Lovely. I also have a little placque, showing a woman in a duster, cowboy hat and boots, and a black mask, standing next to a Harley. I'm not really sure if that's Halloweeny or not; but how could you pass that up in a Goodwill? It would take a stronger woman than me to not plunk down the exorbitant fee of 50 cents. Did I mention she is slipping on black gloves, with one leg cocked and peeking out from the duster?

After today's shift, I have three days off in a row. I know I should buckle down and do some cleaning and writing and house stuff, but Glacier is just calling me! The weather has been glorious, and I just heard from someone that the Going-to-the-sun road, or whatever they call it, has been re-opened. Mmm. Maybe just a quick trip. I think I'll go throw my futon in the truck now. Gotta live up to the blog name, after all. So I'll ramble my way north for a few days.

I'm conveniently forgetting that momma and me did that for a week. She saw more countryside than I have since I've been here! I think I overloaded her a bit; on the way home from our last jaunt up to Kalispell, she had to shut her eyes through some fabulous mountains. "There's too much to look at!" she mumbled. "I can't keep it straight!"

Still, traveling with a companion is more of a jaunt. A trip. It's not pure rambling. So away I go.

Weddings and Rambles

Sorry for the quiet; I’ve been running for weeks. Now I am running out of steam, and feeling too tired to raise my head. I’m embarrased to admit it, but my 60+ momma is running me ragged. Well, her, and working till midnight most every day.

The wedding in CA was fabulous. Everything went without a hitch, the bride was stunning, and started to give some luminescent grins when her nerves wore off. I danced like a maniac, drank like one too. After the reception, which was at a gorgeous old victorian with a turret that housed a giant bathtub (heaven!), we took the keg home and played drunken ping pong.

Then came the long, long, long drive home. I made it down there in 24 hours, backroads half the time, and stuck to interstates on the way back with the momma, which cut the time down to 22 hours. Woo hoo. I was fully in pain by the end of that run, and I don’t think I’ve gotten my breath back just yet. I’ve been running here and there, seeing the sights in between motel shifts. But I love it. I’ve got a visitor! And she cleans, too! Today she did my laundry!

Yesterday we were wandering the backroads home from Missoula, and ended up on a little dirt logging road, not a house or a soul in sight the entire time. Halfway to nowhere, we came across the friendliest old dog in the world, panting like crazy, and very unwilling to leave our truck. We had to turn around 10 minutes later, and when we got back to that point in the road, there he was, looking pitifully hot and thirsty, and needful of a friend. I opened the tailgate, and he jumped right in and settled down.

Later we realized that we probably kidnapped someone’s hunting dog, and they were out in the forest for hours calling him, but at the time we thought we were being very good samaritan-ish. We took him to the address on his collar, and he hopped out, greeted by another lumping old American Brown dog, that came around the corner with a bit of turf or something in his mouth. No people anywhere, so we just turned around and headed home. I’m actually a little tickled by the thought of his owners coming home and finding him, flabbergasted as to how he got there. He’s just gonna grin that quiet grin of his, and they’ll never know.