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 |   Thoughts destined to be washed away by the tides of life. |
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I've been studying my cover photo for a while now, and it seems to me that it is more than just a photo of what is there that can be seen, more than just three white rocks stacked on a beach. It contains an important question about the future, about what happens long after the photographer has gone. What will happen to our pile of stones when the tide comes in? Will it topple or has the architect built this structure at a safe distance? I don't know what will happen to these words that I stack here on the sand. They may prove safely distant, or they may be swallowed up by a rush of self-doubt. They may be here for a season. They may lose their balance and be scattered by the shoreline, or be hidden away under shifting sands. Perhaps someday, the tides of life will reclaim them. Or maybe that's just a bunch of poetic, romantic nonsense. After all, this is just a blog. |
| It's snowing. The air is filled with delicate white flakes. It's a winter wonderland. Again. Enough, already. I've seen all the breathtaking beauty of winter landscapes that nature can throw at me. Give me March with its mud and its soggy, yellow grass. March when the crocuses poke their heads out in inappropriate places they were never planted. Enough of the delicate white-laced arms of trees raised in reverence towards the sky. Enough, do you hear me? Enough. |
| I don't usually blog on the weekend, but I knew that I missed Friday and that broke my blogging streak. I thought a quick update this morning would make up for that, and then I discovered that I had missed Thursday, too. Well, it's not tragic. It's not a job and I won't be fired for not showing up. No one is eagerly awaiting each day's installment and so there is no one to disappoint. I did feel quite accomplished in having blogged so many days in a row and this is my most prolific blogging period since I started the blog. I have to be proud of myself for the small things, mainly because I never do big things. I'm trying a version of "bulletproof" coffee this morning. I don't have any MCT oil (I don't even know what MCT stands for), no ghee, or any of those powders and creamers that the YouTube vloggers put in their morning brew. Just a pat of organic butter and a little cream. But this is a very different experience for me and I am not sure you can appreciate how brave an act it was to inject my coffee with contaminants. I have been drinking my coffee black for almost 30 years. I learned to drink it black to avoid the disappointment of being out of milk or cream, as so often happened in the office. But once my taste buds became accustomed to that bitter, deep, dark and robust flavor of the unadulterated bean, I realized that coffee needs no embellishment. It's perfect just as it comes, hot and steaming from the coffee maker into my cup. As for the experiment, however, I think it works. That is, my cup of coffee was somewhat filling and satisfied that morning desire for something to go with my coffee. The headache I woke up with is gone, but any old coffee will cure a headache. I didn't hate the coffee, but I did add a bit of Stevia to make it palatable. It's a fad. But everything since hunter/gatherers has been a fad, really. Humans like change and challenges. We get tired of the same old roasted mastodon and push the limits of our ingenuity and our biology's ability to withstand imposed hardships and indulgences. Some fads, like lead makeup, were doomed to failure and others like going over Niagara in a barrel tend to weed out the more foolish among us. Humans who aren't involved constantly in a battle to survive get up to a lot of foolish things and put them on YouTube or Tik Tok or even blog about them. As fads go, bulletproof coffee is okay. Whether or not it rocks my morning remains to be seen.  |
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Not quite what I meant. "Pufts" was a sidelong reference to the famous dog show, Crufts