living in the now or how she begins to show symptoms of the mad cow

the grass is insanely green from all of the rain (and that i dialed up the vibrancy one notch in my camera).
nikon rocks the color.
i think it's also somehow the special light this time of year, even on grey days.
and again i fear the photo has nothing to do with the actual post.

i'm a very immediate person.

~ when the sun is shining, i feel as if it will shine forever.

~ when it's cloudy and rainy, i'm quite convinced it will never stop.

~ when it's grey and dreary, i have a hard time remembering the sun. not only the object, but the actual word.

~ during the winter, i think the light will never return.

~ as i write this, near midsummer, with the orange of sunset still in the sky at 11:40 p.m., that darkness is scarcely a dim memory (tho' i can conjure a vague feeling of dread).

~ i make up recipes all the time, but if i don't write them down, i don't remember them. and people say, "why don't you make those fabulous fried elderflowers again this year?" or "when are you going to make us some more of that butter beer?" and i say, "huh?" and frantically try to remember when i would have made those and how i went about it.

~ i read all the time, but don't retain that much (perhaps i read too fast). the upside is it makes rereading more fun.

~ same with all those episodes of british crime shows...i can watch them again and again because i never remember who did it (that's only occasionally because i fell asleep before the end).

~ i almost always use photos in my blog posts that i took that day. only when i stroll down memory lane do i use an older shot.

it's quite trendy to live in the now and i guess that's what this is.

or maybe my memory's just fading. or i've got a touch of the mad cow, just like denny crane.