One of the nice things about moving (one of the very few nice things – in general I loathe moving more than just about anything I can think of – all that disruption, and you don’t know where to put anything anymore and it’s just chaos and badness – shudder) is getting to know your new home. There can be so many lovely surprises. For instance, I did not know that the large tree outside my bedroom window is the kind of tree that erupts into large clouds of tiny white blooms in the Spring. We had a couple of those trees across the street from where I used to live. The tiny, confetti-sized petals would shake loose in the Spring breeze and blow into the open windows of my car when it was parked outside. I would come out and there would be flower petals scattered all across my car seats, as if the wind were my secret admirer. This morning when I pulled up the blinds to let in the morning light, I saw that the tree whose branches I’ve been admiring all winter (they look filigree-like against the sky) has become one big, glorious bouquet of delicate flowers. Sigh. So beautiful.
I’ve been watching the Buffy DVDs The Other One (who really needs another nickname by now) lent me. I used to be so into that show. Then I went off traveling the country for two years with a youth ministry retreat team and totally lost touch with the TV shows that had been so important to me before I left. Then I found out almost by accident that One was a fan, along with Veronica Mars (a show I’d heard about but never watched) and Heroes. First he lent me his treasured Season One boxed set of Heroes, and then, when I returned it, blessed me with an abundance of DVDs: both Seasons One and Two of Buffy plus the first season of VM. I started watching the latter with Johnsy, who has made me swear deep and dangerous oaths not to watch it without her, but the Buffy I’ve kept all to myself. I had forgotten how many of my favorite episodes were in Season Two: the Halloween one with Oz getting his first look at Willow at the end, and the one where Xander inadvertently makes all the women in the town fall in lust with him by trying to cast a love spell on Cordelia, Spike and Dru being deliciously evil, and is it just me or does Angel become infinitely more interesting after he reverts to Angelus? It’s been a good time.
Unfortunately, my dreams have been rather odd lately. This morning I woke out of dream in which Willow and Buffy were hiding from a horde of ravening St. Patrick’s day revelers fiercely brandishing shamrocks. They weren’t very scary, but they were wearing an awful lot of kelly green. Somehow Willow’s ability to turn sweet potatoes green through witchcraft was going to save the day. I’m not making any of this up. Seriously. All courtesy of my strange and twisty subconscious and One’s generous lending of DVDs.