Friday, March 6, 2009

Weekend Weather.

Several cups of coffee later, my pretties, and the snow's all but melted and we're headed for sixty-six today, and—oh dear sweet baby Jesus in a zip-up rayon tracksuit—seventy six and sun for Saturday and Sunday. Those are near-record temps for the date, of course, but let's us not worry our little heads about our carbon footprints: Let's us pick out which porch to spend the weekend on, instead.

In Broken Glasses News, mine are, which means I come to you this morning live and in sunglasses, of the Rx variety, as I have been since midday yesterday. Taught my workshop in 'em. That'll instill confidence in the power of, say, filtering experience through the lens of one's main character. But Greensboro's the kind of town where if you phone around bright and early mewling and puking and beg and call people sir and ma'am and explain the nature of your emergency (which is that either you can conduct your fancy Friday-night-on-campus-deans-in-the-room-parents-weekend-honors-open-house thing in sunglasses, or they [the optometrists] can save your ass), you can have delivered unto your poorly insured self a reasonably-priced eye exam. All this means that later on today I'll be sporting me some fancy new lookers. Hopefully I'll be able to see farther and blink with aplomb, a la the run-faster-and-jump-higher theory of new shoes from the Stride-Rite in the mall. Can I wear them home, mommy? Can I? Well, Boo, I'm sure you can, but the question is, may you?

We did like us some grammar way back when at 2717 Goodfellows Road. We also liked to call me Boo.

I so well remember the first pair of glasses: Don't remember what grade—either first or second—but what I remember is coming out of the doctor's office and seeing leaves. I had no idea you could see leaves in the trees from far away. Until then they'd been green blurs. That was a day.

I'm sorry I left you stranded on Wednesday and Thursday, weatherers. But you know how it was: You knew this was coming. You could tell. Even in your coats, you could smell it warming up. We just had to have those chilly interstitial days to get to these ones. As for today: Get thee outside. Stay there. Go see something. Doctor's orders.

1 comment:

Luke said...

When I pictured "broken glasses," I didn't necessarily picture "snapped in half glasses."

I bet Jesus didn't start wearing rayon track suits until his early thirties, when he finally acheived that Dude-like calm.