Day 308

there was an early knock on the door and cold plastic phone was pressed into my blind, open palm. a rolling avalanche of sleep was too heavy to agree to join the pre-church ride crew. massive powder day, i know. it's just too early. my mind was fogged enough. nate wisely reminded me to set my alarm for church before he hung up.

i wondered if the guys would even show up. apparently it's a nearly acceptable trend to choose a powder morning on sunday, but they started filing into the row a few songs into the service. most were still wearing some snow gear and i noticed that a few other adults were also wearing ski pants as part of their sunday best. none of what i've mentioned in this paragraph is even taboo in this place.

swede made broccoli soup afterwards at our house for a crew of six. clumps of snow crowded the other side of the kitchen window and we all declared contentment at about the same time i internally reminisced about a once-normal routine of afternoon sports after this same sunday lunch fullness. our t.v.'s gone now though and no one cares about it, but the same lethargic haze brought me to realize that post-lunch weariness is a near universal experience for sundays. two of the guys left to go riding again while the rest of us sat around and talked about music and far away places.

after chilling in the library later in the afternoon i headed around to nate's house. band mate ian lives there too.

ian is one of my favorite people in this town. first impressions wouldn't bring anyone to guess that this dark haired, drawling australian would be not only a fantastic guitarist but also a deeply perceptive and wise man. his underlying innocence balances an unnaturally well-rounded understanding of life which is constantly displayed through his kindness. he's also the one who learned guitar on the roof of a shack as a carpenter's apprentice back in australia. last night, nate and i had happened to see ian's van parked outside of the curry bowl restaurant and, after spying through a window and past some other surprised diners, we saw ian tucking his chin in his lopsided, humble grin. the sparkle in his eye was charming a girl across the table and we wondered if he'd yet ordered wine with the few french phrases he knows.

we razzed him a bit about it today and he rolled another grin against his shoulder and looked down in a smile, immediately turning the conversation to his regrets that we hadn't gotten his attention 'cause he wudda snuck us some fude out the back door. he would have too and, even better, would have probably somehow even convinced a waiter or busboy to hook us up with some sort of leftover, take-out box.

the falling snow had turned to rain by early evening today and ian put his buzzing electric guitar back against the wall of the living room, offering to give me a lift back to my place on his way to pick up the same girl from last night to go swimming at the aquatic centre. he tried to convince nate and i to come along too, promising it would be no big deal to have some mates join in, but we know that that's never a good idea.

besides, we figure we should stay out of his way right now for things like this. we reckon we're gonna need to ask him for some tips on his methods sooner or later and wouldn't want to make any trouble in the meantime.