Gayle Madwin (queerbychoice) wrote,
Gayle Madwin

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I saw a raccoon! While out running after dark, I saw a racoon in someone's front yard! This is totally the best thing that running has ever yet done for me.

The racoon saw me too. It climbed a tree to get away from me.

Also I beat my non-race 5K record time for the second outing in a row tonight. I think I'm finally getting back into a pattern of regularly improving again.

In other wildlife-related news, my yard is full of squirrels. Even my roof is full of squirrels: I keep hearing them running across it. And Boston keeps barking at the squirrels and chasing them. But when she's asleep or indoors, the squirrels notice and take over the entire yard for hours.

The presence of the squirrels means that pecan harvesting season is beginning. The squirrels spend their time in my neighbors' yards during other seasons, but they move into my yard as the pecans on my tree ripen.

Pecan harvesting season also means that my hands are going to be stained brown until February. They're only extremely faintly stained at the moment, but as more pecans ripen, no matter how hard I try to make myself put on waterproof gloves every time I ever touch the pecan hulls, I'm going to end up staining my hands darker and darker until they're nearly black, and then I'll feel weird about ever leaving my house and seeing people in person because it isn't normal for a person with otherwise pale skin to have black hands. But pecan juice doesn't wash off.

Or perhaps I just won't care. This will be my first pecan harvesting season since taking up running, and running seems to have the effect of making me entirely stop caring what anyone thinks of what I look like. I still care what I think of what I look like, and I never cared all that much to begin with about what anyone else thought of what I looked like, but to the extent that I did care . . . well, running tends to force me to seek out somewhat different clothes than I normally would, for the sake of running-related functionality. And so I get used to going out in public dressed in a variety of even odder outfits than I normally would. Perhaps I can also get used to going out in public with dark brown stains on my hands.

Maybe to some extent I already have, in past years. Stained hands or not, one has to leave the house occasionally.

I'm still not done planting all my new plants. Getting close, though. I'm just being indecisive about where to put the last few of them.
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