Whipple Hill

My day got off to a rough start. Joanne parked in front of my side of the garage (again!), so I was forced to park in the street (again). I did not feel up to moving my car into the garage last night, so I stupidly left it out to face the frigid night alone. I was off to a late start this morning, and the fact that my car conveniently froze over did not help. Nor did the fact that I slipped twice while attempting to get down my driveway. Usually I love starting my day off with multiple bruises on my leg, but today I was not in the mood for games. Fortunately, my mood improved somewhat upon arrival at school. We had some interesting discussion during Urban Studies, such as how Jennifer is going to die in Costa Rica because she can't swim. Dave Valdini allegedly cannot swim, also. What crazy people!I went to Whipple Hill today. I went alone, to absorb all of emotions. I had not been there since November, when we spread some of my mothers ashes at sunset. The raw wind drove us off early, and we plan to return as a family in the spring, with a more temperate climate. The wind today was gentle, allowing me to sit at the top of the hill for thirty or forty minutes. I could almost see my mother's figure on a rock near me, curled up, and writing in a journal... and talking to me. Her eyes always sparkled and she spoke with pure enthusiasm for the world around her... and I cried. I cried until my stomach shook. It felt nearly foreign -- I haven't cried in a while. After a while, I wasn't even sure why I was crying, I simply was. My walk down the hill was so relaxing -- all the cliches of "soul clensing." I smiled to myself. Perhaps next time I'll bring my old journal to the top of the hill and sketch a few thoughts.Tomorrow is Friday. What a long week! Next week is only two days, at least. Next mod is the musical. My, how that has snuck up on me. Looking forward to some huge fiestas in the not-so-distant future...~Jenn