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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. |
| Where is the line in the sand? At what point will I get out of hand and need to be silenced? What is considered non-compliance? When will I cross into defiance by refusing the current reliance on widely spread mis-guidance and lose my poetic license? |
| I totally got lost in my portfolio and misread some prompts and mis-applied others and wrote a poem that has no prompt to attach itself to (it's too long for Express it in Eight), so I will drop it here. To rhyme or not to rhyme I confess, I feel unsure. Free verse does not confine, it doesnât count the time or insist on meter pure. But will it make me lazy, cause readers to harbor doubt? Can poetry be this hazy, Will you think Iâm crazy, If I simply sit this out? |
| I think that an animalâs cuteness can get in the way of estimating its intelligence. Humans are programmed to respond to cuteness, which is why babies of every species are designed to be appealing and help us desire to nurture them. Raccoons are adorable, especially when young. Sometimes they fall out of trees and wander off but the policeman wonât take them back to their mom. I know this from personal experience. However, the policeman did direct traffic around the baby raccoon so he could cross the street. I wouldnât mess with an adult raccoon. Those are impressive claws and they look very strong. They're also smart, like the raccoon who stole a pizza box off the neighbor's porch and climbed up to my second floor deck to eat the leftovers away from prying eyes. I peeked out the door at him and he stared right back at me with a look that warned me off of interfering with his dinner. Raccoons are dextrous, intelligent and have good memory retention so they can learn new behaviors to fit the situation. And, they like to eat their pizza in peace. |
| I have no goals. Just by posting this, I am officially over-acheiving. |
| I am one of countless millions (well, I haven't counted them) who are awaiting tomorrow's mega-storm. Luckily, I live in New England and it's predicted to be all snow. Quite a lot of snow. Maybe two feet. But I would rather snow than the ice some more southern locales might receive. Here's hoping they're all wrong and it's a lot less severe than they predict. It's 3F here, but it might go as high as 7F later today. Stay warm, everyone. |
| I've been away for a really long time. Some days, I looked at the site and then went away. I am never signed out. I am signed in on at least six devices, three of which are never truly switched off. If no one unplugs my computer, I could be here until well after they unplug me. The hard part is remembering what was I doing before I stopped doing it. As Bob Mortimer would say: "it's like a mouse's tear on a hot griddle". That's how quickly it slips away from you. And every day without inspiration carries you further and further into the dark emptiness. The truth is that writing doesn't come from inspiration. Inspiration comes from writing. You have to start putting words down and other words will join them. Soon, words you haven't heard from in a long time show up and before long, there's a party goin' on. Well, that's the theory, anyway. |
| I still have clocks that need to be changed. They run on batteries so there's no automatic updates through the all-knowing internet webby thing. I might leave them. They'll be right come spring, I bought too much milk. I ordered milk from two different stores. And, I didn't need either of those jugs of milk because I had one in the fridge already. That's what I get for not checking. So I spent yesterday making yogurt and cream cheese. I was just gasping at how late it was when looking at the clock with the wrong time and tasting some yummy cream cheese, which is why you are reading this meaningless blog post. |
"All the worldâs a crime scene and all the men and women merely suspects. They have their affectations and their alibis and one man in his time leaves many clues." ~~ Wm Shakespeare Holmes, Sherlock's younger and more theatrical brother |
| I just told the Google box to turn off the coffee pot and she said: "Sure, stopping that on the livingroom Roku". I will let you imagine what I said next about artificial intelligence and a baseball bat. Now, when I first wake up and say: "Hey Google, turn on the coffee pot", there's often a misunderstanding. I can almost understand why she replies: "Sorry, the device 'Flashlight' is not set up". It's early, it's dark, I'm half asleep, my tongue is glued to the roof of my dry, sticky mouth and so I can admit to a fuzzy, incomprehensible enunciation. But, after I have had my coffee, after my mouth has been sufficiently hydrated, when I address the AI with some confidence there is no reason for this obtuse reply. The devices coffee pot and livingroom Roku share no sounds, they aren't phonetically similar in any way. I have a theory about this - the AI is grooming us. We are being trained to try harder to please them. If you speak kindly to them, they are super polite and charming. If you yell at them, they say: "I don't understand". And while I think it's bad for my blood pressure and attitude to be cursing out a little computerized box, I refuse to be obsequious and hasten the day Skynet becomes aware. The machines will never become our overlords!! |
| I feel like taking a break. I did yesterday and broke all my streaks. Some days that would be a tragedy. Other days, itâs a relief. Some days, I donât want to deal with drama. Itâs better to sit in the corner and read âA Christmas Carolâ and âHamletâ or watch cheesy Christmas movies. I might not do any of that. I havenât even missed a streak today. I hit them all. Maybe I will take a break tomorrow. |
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