On a Friday

The sun is peaking through bright cumulus clouds on a snowless February day in North Idaho. I wake up to unusual light coming through the blinds that cover my bedroom window, my head is pounding and my body groggy with sleep. I do not expect sunshine today, I expected it last week.

My body moves slowly, somewhat lopsided, to the back door where I reach for a dog cookie and let El Salto out into the back yard. The sun is fairly dancing off of water drops on nearby trees. I wanted grey today - an excuse to stay inside and work at the computer. An excuse to write. I fall back into bed, hoping for more sleep but it does not come.

The dog has gone out once but wants to do so again, preferably at the end of a leash. I'll walk him first, I think, and then go shoot something but don't know what. Moose would be nice but I don't know where they are. I don't know where the waterfalls are either. Actually, I'd promised myself to conserve on gas and not go shooting much until things turned into spring. My glads are already rising out of the heavy mulch of pine straw and leaves. There are buds on the trees. If we don't get a frost, we will have an early spring. If it freezes, we won't have the beautiful wild flowers that have graced us during the past two springs that I've been back home.

Coffee on, dishes washed, I sit down to the computer but nothing in the cyber world. I pick up the newspaper and head into the small room at the center of my house. Because of recent gun violence, a couple of downtown bars are going to scan their patrons for metal. The other bars don't think it is necessary. What is needed is for the police and the district attorney to charge people who are carrying weapons while under the influence. Then, maybe people will think twice about irresponsible gun use. But because the law isn't doing their job, the bars will use metal detectors. Glad that I no longer haunt those places.

Other stuff in the news. I looked for more information on the little chocolate event that is happening tonight but couldn't find it. I am interested in free chocolate - it will be my only Valentines. I'd like to photograph people eating chocolate - why does this interest me. I come across a first person piece written by one of our reporters as a tribute to J.D. Why does this excite me so? I read from the first word to the last, following the fast-paced stream of consciousness, unreliable narrative bringing Holden Caulfield to Coeur d'Alene. The racing thoughts of a disgruntled mind. Why am I so excited? I write a comment on the website. I hesitate when doing this because, for the most part, I try to keep my opinions to myself. That is new behavior for me but when moving back here it occurred to me that someday I might want to do something, career wise, in this town. I don't want to piss people off yet. Oops, I've already done that but then just my presence and my style has a way of doing that. People need to mind their own business.

I've gone through ten disks trying to burn one for the anorexic woman that I shot this past week. She'd asked me to do this awhile back but I'd declined. But, then, this class assignment came up and she appeared, thinner than before, and so it all worked out. I loved being creative and working with a willing subject. Anyway, she wants a CD to show her dad and brother but they won't burn. I'm frustrated and throwing them across the living room. The dog now has his cedar bed beneath his big doghouse, otherwise known as the gazebo. He's been inside all winter. I still haven't taken a shower. My body is stuck in this chair behind this computer screen, where patches of blue sky are capturing the corner of my eye. It feels good to write.

The insanity of the mind of an anorexic is hard for anyone who hasn't experienced it, to understand. I've been there, trying to control my world through limiting what I eat. One slice of bread, a quarter teaspoon of mustard, two thin slices of turkey from the deli. Nibble, make it last. The slower I eat, the quicker I can feel it in my belly. I am in control. No bananas because they are a whole 120 calories and I'd rather spend that allowance on something more tasty. My bones jutting from beneath skin and I feel fat. Five more pounds, I tell myself. I weigh myself countless times a day. Some how, some way, I moved past the insanity but know it can return at any moment. I haven't owned a scale in years and NEVER weigh myself. My back is to the doctor's scale and they don't tell me how much I weigh. Some how, the need to control my world becomes less and less. The mind of an anorexic plays tricks on its person. But if you don't know, you might think that they can change it around at any moment. This is not true - it takes years of vigilance - and one never completely rids themselves of the insanity.

El Salto keeps lifting his head and looking in the window. I still haven't showered and still don't know where I want to shoot. I only know that this is another day to enjoy.